


Let's Add A Tiara

by PixieRed



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Fake Dating, Light-Hearted, Makoto POV, Mitsuru as Julie Andrews, Pining, Ren POV, Tropes, fandom memes, shumako
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieRed/pseuds/PixieRed
Summary: Makoto and Ren need to infiltrate a real-world gala for their next heist. Neither is sure quite how to act around the other. Will they be ready in time?Set a year after the game.This fic references earlier Persona games but knowledge of them is not required nor spoiled. The focus is Ren/Makoto.





	1. Let's Add A Mission

"We're still on for tonight, right?"

Haru's message from earlier was still at the top of Makoto's history. They had a regular get-together on Monday evenings. Futaba had recently started group therapy at that time and Boss wanted to be nearby in case things got intense. Haru offered to keep Leblanc open by herself, having started a sort of apprenticeship there several months prior. Things were usually slow at the café, so Makoto decided to study there on Mondays to keep her friend company.

It was strange that Haru felt the need to confirm their routine. Perhaps she thought things might change because school was on break. It was hard to believe that in a scant few weeks they'd both be university sophomores. It was hard to believe that in a scant few weeks  _he_  would-

Makoto gripped the handle of Leblanc's door. The moment it left the frame she was inundated with the intertwined smells of coffee and curry. There was something especially nostalgic about the choice of spices and the rich aroma this time. Haru must have been experimenting—and quite successfully. Makoto closed her eyes, inhaling more of it as she walked it. "It smells nice..."

"Thank you."

A deep voice.

A familiar voice.

Makoto stopped mid-step and opened her eyes. Instead of Haru behind the counter it was Ren. He was wearing the same green apron he always did, this time over a simple white button up and jeans. He was even wearing his glasses. It was almost as if he had never left. Makoto convinced herself the warm feeling rising to her cheeks was masked by the natural flush of coming in from the cold. "R-Ren! ...I thought you weren't coming back until school started."

"That was the original plan," Ren ran a hand through his hair. "But Hifumi is doing really well in her current tournament and I said I'd come to the matches."

"Oh."

Togo Hifumi. So they were still together. Makoto had stumbled upon their budding romance while tailing him back before she joined the team. They kept it low key. Hifumi-san had an image to keep after all.

Makoto pushed down a burgeoning hope, an idle fantasy that she had spent too much time with lately. Instead, a different oft-visited thought came to mind. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder what might have happened had she not gotten everyone into that mess with Kaneshiro. Would Hifumi-san have joined the team as advisor instead? Had she essentially stolen Hifumi-san's role?

"Makoto?"

"Oh! Oh... right," Makoto took a seat at the counter. "Sorry, I was just wondering where Haru was."

"Something cropped up at Okumura Foods," Ren shrugged. He rested his forearms on the counter and leaned towards her. "What can I get you?"

Makoto closed her eyes, taking in the scents once again. The coffee in particular called to her. She opened her eyes slowly and looked directly at Ren. "Coffee. I'll leave the selection up to you."

Ren smirked, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. He leaned just a little closer as he pushed himself off the counter en route to the brewing station. Watching his back, Makoto released the breath she was holding. She reminded herself that he gave those looks to everyone.

He had always been an attractive boy, but over the year he spent with them he seemed to get all the more painfully charming. Perhaps it was because she got to know him better. It wasn't a bad thing—it had gotten them out of a few situations after all—it was just  _confusing_  at times.

"Guatemalan Antigua for my Queen." Ren laid the cup and saucer in front of her. He leaned over once again, locking gazes as he smiled.

_Times like NOW._

"Th-thanks," Makoto said as she leaned back a little, as if she could somehow escape the effect he had on her. She attempted a small smile in return, the polite one she had been cultivating her entire life, but her face refused to play along. She looked down at the coffee to hide, bringing her fingers to the handle.

_It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything. You're just seeing what you want to. It doesn't mean anything._

In the periphery, Makoto saw Ren moving away. She glanced up quickly. His smile had dropped. His lips were parted. Perhaps he was contemplating something? She dared not stare. By the time she looked up again he was drying a dish with a rag.

Makoto brought he cup to her lips, enjoying not only the smell of coffee but the heat radiating from it. She blew across the surface and took a tentative sip. The warmth traveled down her throat, spreading through her chest. It tasted soft but complex, perfect for the evening, perfect for her.

_It doesn't mean anything._

Ren put down the rag, seemingly out of dishes. He approached her again. "How is it?"

"Mmmm," Makoto managed a real smile this time. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad." Ren smiled through lidded eyes. Perhaps he was tired from his trip.

Makoto searched for something to say. She had kept aware for Ren's activities through the group chat, but found it difficult to really be part of the conversation. Futaba, Ann, and Ryuji were always so rapid-fire and it was as if they never slept. "Are you excited about starting university?"

_Good one, Makoto. Ask the most boring question._

"I guess," Ren shrugged. "I  _am_  excited to be back here with all of you."

"Y-yeah," Makoto looked down at her coffee before looking up again. She got out her phone. "We should have a get-together now that you're back."

Ren reached out, curling his fingers over the top of her phone. "I'll let everyone know when I'm settled."

Makoto clenched her teeth.  _A mistake._  "Oh, sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Ren scratched at the back of his head. A whisper of a chuckle escaped his lips. "It's just... the attic could use a little dusting."

"Oh. Right." Makoto took another sip. She was reaching the end of the cup. "Where's Morgana?"

"Reacquainting himself with the neighborhood," said Ren. "The trains were busy today. He didn't like being cooped up."

"Ah." All sorts of vapid questions about the train ride came to Makoto's mind. She kept them to herself.

During the lull in their conversation, Ren began surveying the beans and other inventory along the back wall.

"Hey," he broke the silence, his back still turned. "Since I'm here early, it might be nice to take a tour of campu-"

A mix of bells and clangs announced another customer. Both Makoto and Ren turned, finding a woman in a white fur coat with waves of red hair cascading down her back. Her bangs obscured one of her eyes. The poshness of her coat already made her seem out of place, but curiouser yet was that beneath it seemed to be some sort of tactical gear, all in black.

Ren stared at the woman, his eyes narrowing just a little. As he took a step towards the her, he brought his arm out over the counter, in front of Makoto. He would never greet a customer that way. Makoto was soon on her feet as well. Ren's hand jerked back slightly. She knew not to step further.

"Amamiya Ren," said the woman.

He said nothing in response. His expression remained fixed.

"Or rather..." The woman's lips curled. "The Phantom Thief."

She took a few steps further into the café. Makoto watched her but kept aware of Ren. She needed to be able to back him up at a moment's notice. The woman stopped a few steps shy of normal conversation distance. She was out of reach, but somehow it felt more for their benefits than for hers.

"Am I incorrect?" asked the woman.

"That part of my life is over," said Ren. He remained pointed at her, his arm a fence before Makoto.

"I'm here to...  _request_... that it isn't." If the woman was offended by any of Ren's actions, she wasn't showing it. "For both you and your team. I need something stolen."

"I worked alone." It was subtle, but Makoto noticed Ren was breathing a little more heavy than usual. No doubt she was the same.

"A lie," said the woman. "Wild cards draw people to them."

Ren's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"My name is Kirijo Mitsuru," said the woman. "I too possess the power of persona."

* * *

While his modest attic home was unfinished and drafty, the one thing it did boast was plenty of space. At least, that's what Ren had thought. Somehow the addition of one Kirijo Mitsuru and her giant fluffy coat of doom made it seem uncomfortably cramped.

The alleged persona user stood in the center of the room, commanding everyone's attention.

Gone for a year and the whole team still dropped everything at Ren's request. He wished he was good enough with words to express how touched he was. Futaba and Ryuji were sitting on the bed. Ann and Haru were on the couch. Yusuke was leaning against the table by the stairs.

A small, high-pitched cough brought Ren's attention to Makoto. She was seated in the free chair by the windows, right next to where he stood, trying to stifle a coughing fit. The two of them had scrambled to tidy up the room before the others got there... and more importantly, before Kirijo ascended the stairs. There was still dust in her hair... probably his too.

"So, a persona user," said Morgana, his eyes fixed on the woman. He sat in the window sill, his only motion being the slow undulation of his tail.

"Cute cat," said Kirijo. She didn't seem to know.

"We're all here," Ren folded his arms. "What's this about?"

"An' before that," Ryuji leaned forward. "Why should we even trust you?"

"You outnumber me seven to one and I'm in your home turf." That cryptic smile never left Kirijo's face. Even with those disadvantages, she exuded danger. In his third eye, a red aura emanated from her. However, a card floated above her as well. "I'll speak and leave peacefully. You'll have to decide from there."

The Empress.

Her card was of a different design from Haru's though. It must have come from some other deck. Ren wasn't sure what it meant. He could do nothing but hear her out. "Proceed."

"Let me introduce myself," Kirijo turned to the others. "I am Kirijo Mitsuru."

Haru gasped. "The head of the Kirijo Group!"

"Correct," Kirijo closed her eyes and smirked. When she opened them again she was looking directly at Haru. "As expected of the head of Okumura Foods."

"Whoa...  _that_  Kirijo?" Ryuji's mouth hung open.

"I see you are familiar with us," said Kirijo, turning first to Ryuji and then sweeping her attention around the room to all of them. "As you know, the Kirijo Group trades across a wide swath of sectors. What you don't know is that we've been studying the phenomenon of shadows for quite some time."

"Like that bastard Shido!" Ryuji was on his feet, a fist raised in front of him.

Kirijo frowned for the first time. Her gaze fell. "My forebearers first sought to leverage the phenomenon, yes... but now, our charter is to mitigate, or even eliminate, their threat."

"But we took care of that problem," said Yusuke. His expression was dull. His disaffected tone was somewhere between boredom and annoyance.

"Yeah!" Ryuji chimed in. "The Metaverse is gone."

"The place you call the Metaverse was just one facet of a much larger existence," Kirijo was quick to respond but spoke evenly and clearly. Her slightly raised voice seemed to cut through whatever murmurs might bubble up from the team. "Shadows used to be more prevalent in the real world, but in part due to my efforts leading the Kirijo Group, they have been on the decline. Unfortunately, we have not eradicated all of them and whatever force guides them may be creating pockets like your Metaverse to circumvent our efforts."

"So you're saying shadows used to appear like in the Christmas Eve incident?" Makoto raised her hand to her chin.

"Nothing so dramatic," Kirijo chuckled briefly. Her lips then formed a thin line. "Shadow incidents often get written off as accidents or random acts by troubled individuals. I'm sure you've had experience with that."

It was true that most of the conspiracy's acts had been reported that way. Ren wondered just how many more events in the news were actually due to shadows.

"So where do we come in?" Ryuji sat back down on the bed, crossing his arms.

"We're not the only group aware of shadows," said Kirijo. She lowered her voice, underscoring the severity of what she spoke. "Forces like that of Shido Masayoshi seek to use them for their own gain. Most that we are aware of remain woefully ineffective so we wait and watch. However, recently a third party, a mercenary group, stole the prototype of an anti-shadow technology we are developing. It could be used against humans. They plan to auction it off to the highest bidder. I need you to attend the auction and steal it back."

"Why us?" asked Ren. It was best to keep things simple and short with her.

"You're phantom thieves, are you not?" Kirijo's enigmatic smile had returned. "This is what you do."

"But why not professionals?" Makoto followed up.

"It is likely our adversaries have some ability to utilize shadows. The auction is being held on a remote island where shadows have appeared in the past. We need a agents capable of combat with personas."

"We lost our ability to use our personas when the Metaverse vanished," Yusuke held one of his elbows in his palm. His other hand was toying with a lock of hair.

"You think that," Kirijo turned to the artist, then back to Ren. "I'm betting it's not true. My group can teach you what you need to know."

Ren wondered if she was aware of his third eye.

"Why not just do it yourselves then?" Ryuji's tone was still antagonistic.

"There's a gala being held as cover for the auction. The best chance would be attending that gala undercover. My team is well known in these circles. Yours is not."

"Ren's case was widely reported," said Makoto, placing her hands in her lap.

"True," Kirijo nodded with a slow blink. "However, since he was a minor, the photographs were minimal. Furthermore, he was always wearing glasses in them. If we style his hair and remove the glasses he's unlikely to be recognized, at least more so than any of my team."

So... she knew his glasses were fake.

"Won't a big group attract too much attention?" asked Ann, leaning in from her seat on the couch.

"Yes. Ideally it would be a group of two: your wild card and another. You would pose as a couple in attendance," explained Kirijo.

"Two of us," Ren brought his hand to his chin. They had never done a heist with so few. "That's not many for a heist."

"No. We considered sending in two pairs but decided the risk of having our forged invitations discovered is too high," Kirijo brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder. "You won't be completely alone. I will personally handle navigation and support from a vessel off shore."

"S-support?" Futaba brought her feet up under her on the bed.

"My persona is more suited for battle, but has support capabilities as well," Kirijo smiled.

"Island... off shore..." Haru mumbled. She looked up. "Wait. Is this the Fukuizumi party? I received an invitation."

"Aw yeah!" Ryuji pumped his fist. "Now we can take two groups!"

Ren glanced over at his friend, hoping he would take the hint as unlikely as it was. They hadn't yet agreed to the mission.

"Not so fast," Kirijo's eyes darted briefly to Ryuji before returning to Haru. "The Okumura presence at these events has waned since you assumed leadership Okumura-san. It would draw suspicion if you began attending now."

"Then that means Haru can't participate in the heist either," said Yusuke.

"Um," Ann raised her hand. "I'm not supposed to be seen dating in public without my manager's approval."

Haru giggled into hand. "I guess Makoto will have to be Ren's date."

_Date? Makoto?_

Makoto noticeably stiffened. She lowered her head so Ren couldn't see her face. "D-did you have to put it that way?"

_Ouch._

"I could do it," Yusuke put a hand on his chest, like he was making a pledge to a monarch.

"No!" Both Ann and Ryuji were on their feet.

"Uh..." Ryuji looked over at Ann. She forced a laugh.

"It's just that... Uh..." Ann was waving her hands in front of her chest. "Makoto is our strategist, right?"

"Yeah!" Ryuji nodded. "An' she can heal an' stuff."

"I don't know," Haru smiled, bringing a finger to her lips. "I want to see Yusuke in a tux."

_Makoto in a gown..._  Ren looked down at her. She was still hunched over.

No. He shouldn't be thinking about her of all people like that. He shook the thought away.

"Ha~ru," Ann spoke through gritted teeth.

"You're our leader," Ryuji turned to Ren. "Who would you pick?"

Ren suppressed a groan. Ryuji had the worst timing. He and Ann were right though, Makoto had a strong mix of skills and he could rely on her in just about any situation. So why did he feel so guilty? "Makoto. Her skills are most suited, but-"

"Oh?" Kirijo raised an eyebrow and smirked. She approached them and slowly reached out to the seated woman, her gaze shifting between Ren and Makoto like she expected him to strike. They both watched with wide eyes. She didn't  _seem_  to mean any harm, but what was she-

Kirijo snatched a mass of dust from Makoto's hair. She brought it back before her eyes before letting it fall to the ground. "Hmm. Well... I trust you know your own team best."

"We haven't agreed to anything yet," Ren pressed his lips together, his focus not leaving Kirijo.

"Of course," Kirijo smiled politely. She pulled a phone out of her coat and offered it to him. "Contact me when you've made your decision. We can discuss details then."

As she made her way towards the stairs, Ren asked one more question. "This technology you want us to steal—what is it?"

Kirijo turned. Her eyebrows raised briefly as she spoke. "A synthetic persona."

"A what?" Ann blinked twice.

"Personas develop from humans, are attached to humans, are limited by humans. These syn-personas exist to augment one's abilities," Kirijo looked at Ren. "Much like a wild card's power."

"Could it be used by someone without a persona?" asked Makoto, sitting up straight once again.

"Possibly. It is still under development and largely untested. Trying to use it without the proper precautions could have grave consequences." For the second time Kirijo frowned, casting her eyes downward. She turned her attention to Ren once more. "I hope you understand the gravity of this mission."

Ren gave a brief nod. "The prototype... which persona is it?"

"Orpheus." Kirijo seemed to be looking through him, past him to somewhere else. He wasn't familiar with that one, but didn't want to divulge that her yet. However, she seemed to already know. "It belonged to a dear friend who isn't with us right now."

There was a long pause before the woman spoke again.

"Have I answered your questions to your satisfaction?"

"For now," replied Ren. Kirijo descended the stairs and left, Morgana following behind her.

While they waited for Morgana, Ren scanned the room with his third eye, looking for evidence that anything else had been tampered with. He found nothing. "We're clear."

The rest of the team nodded in understanding.

Morgana returned a few minutes later. "She's gone."

Ren turned to Futaba, waving the gifted phone. "Do what you can."

"Got it." Futaba crawled over Ryuji ("Hey!") and took the phone from Ren's hands. "It'll have to wait 'til I'm home and can plug it into something safe first."

"Now what?" asked Ryuji as Futaba returned to her original spot next to him.

"That will depend on what Futaba finds," said Makoto. "Not just on that phone either."

"Do ya think it's true? Anyone can use a persona with that tech?" asked Ryuji. "I'd wanna ride Johanna, or better yet, Necronomicon!"

Both Makoto and Futaba looked at Ryuji, narrowed their eyes, and pressed their lips together, puffing out their cheeks—in perfect unison no less. Ren covered his mouth with one hand to hide his amusement.

"Wha~at?!" Ryuji leaned away from Futaba. "It's a compliment!"

"This technology is dangerous," Yusuke cut through the antics. He seemed to be in a serious mood that night.

"Yeah! Ryuji could break his neck!" added Ann.

Yusuke continued without acknowledging her. "If anyone could use a persona... just think what Shido could have done with that power."

"But from the other perspective," Haru mused. "More people would have had the ability to stop him."

Makoto shook her head. "It's not ordinary people who get access to this kind of technology."

"But is it really okay for us to be keeping this power to ourselves?" asked Haru. She was gripping the edge of the couch cushions with her hands.

"We ain't," Ryuji leaned back on one hand, the other rested on his left ankle, which in turn was resting on his right thigh. "Everyone we know who entered the Metaverse got a persona."

"Something about the way Kirijo-san spoke... I don't think that's universally the case," said Makoto, her hand finding her chin again. "If that were true, she wouldn't have to come to us."

The group fell silent. Ren wasn't sure what to think either. It sounded like the Kirijo Group had a long history of creating persona-related weapons. It also sounded like there was more persona activity than the Phantom Thieves knew about. If only he could still talk to Lavenza...

A brief flash of being kicked by Caroline crossed Ren's mind. Who would have thought he would long for  _that_  again?

Still... the prospect of enhanced persona weapons was chilling. Clearly Kirijo couldn't keep the technology she allegedly created contained. Developing it seemed to give rise to a host of new problems. How many other groups had such technology? 

"If she really wanted to protect people, would she be creating such a weapon?" Yusuke was apparently following the same line of thought. "It seems she's only made things worse."

"Especially if it just gets stolen," said Ann. There was a bite to her voice. More of the team was arriving at the same conclusion.

"Yeah, even if we do steal it back, we can't expect it to be under wraps for long," said Morgana.

"We're not even sure it's really hers," Futaba crossed her arms. "She could be getting us to do her dirty work for her."

"So what do we do?" asked Haru.

"We can't let technology like that get out," Ren took a step forward. He rested his hand on the back of Makoto's chair.  "But I don't know if we can trust the Kirijo Group either."

"Either way, we may have to take Kirijo-san's mission," said Makoto. She smiled, that way she did when she was really in her element. "She asked us to steal the prototype. We'll just make other plans when it comes to returning it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2019/4/23 - Happy Birthday Makoto!
> 
> And Thank *you* for reading! This fic comes from an AU that Melkechi and I started brainstorming back before I finished [Makoto's Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11782581). I'm glad to finally bring it to fruition. We came up with a few scenes we just had to have and the overall setup to make them work and then I developed the full outline and did the writing. 
> 
> This fic was outlined before P5D came out in North America. No P5 games other than the original version are assumed. 
> 
> Two years ago I tried to write a fun, light-hearted, trope-y shumako romance fic and instead I wrote Lies. Here goes attempt two -- I hope you enjoy this story!
> 
> \- Pix ([Twitter](https://twitter.com/shypixiered) | [AO3 Stories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieRed/works))


	2. Let's Add Heels

Amamiya Ren was silent during the elevator ride up to meet Kirijo. Makoto was standing by his side. They couldn't guarantee the elevator wasn't being surveilled. Any discussion had to happen outside the building, preferably in the safety of their hideout.

Futaba had connected some of her earlier research on cognitive psience to the Kirijo Group. There were some pretty disturbing rumors. Most dated back nearly ten years or more. Once Kirijo Mitsuru took the reins it seemed to quiet. The phone she gave him came up clean too. However, it wasn't enough to gain their trust.

On the other hand, what Futaba could dig up about the auction and the gala masking it was no good either. One thing was clear, that technology, should it exist, couldn't get into the hands of many of the people attending. For now, their best option was to work with Kirijo.

It was just irritating that the technology had to be developed in the first place. If even half of what Futaba had dug up was true, why would Kirijo still be experimenting with personas and shadows? It was too dangerous.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a large open space with high ceilings. In one corner was a square stage covered in blue mats next to a boxing ring, both presumably for training. In another corner was an elongated table surrounded by chairs, like one that would be used for corporate meetings. A four legged table not far from him seemed to have floor plans sprawled across it. There were large free-standing panes of glass throughout the area, possibly for use as displays.

The whole floor was surrounded in windows like rest of the building, but internal shades blocked out the light. Things were to remain private. The space was instead lit artificially in a warm tone. It almost felt like night.

Waiting for them about ten meters from the elevators was Kirijo and a man Ren had not met before. The woman had dropped the tactical gear and fur coat from their first encounter, wearing instead a fitted black blazer with gold accents over some sort of frilly white blouse, a red knee-length skirt, and heeled black boots.

The man was about Ren's height with short-cropped silver hair. He wore a crimson dress shirt with a black tie, black gloves, and black slacks. It was easily something Ren could have worn. The difference was that this guy was considerably more  _built_.

In Ren's third eye, he glowed with a red aura, similar to Kirijo. Above him, a blue card floated.  _The Emperor._  It appeared to be from the same deck as Kirijo's Empress. Matching outfits, matching arcana, were they a thing? Ren tabled the idea. There were other, more concerning, things to focus on. He had to remain attentive.

The last time they met in person, Kirijo had been outnumbered and in his home turf. This time, he and Makoto were in their territory and didn't have the numerical advantage. Ren fought his instincts to take a more defensive posture. They were supposed to be working together. His eyes shifted to Makoto. If she was afraid, she wasn't letting it show. She walked alongside him exuding that same confidence, same sense of purpose, that made her so fearsome when they first met.

"Welcome," said Kirijo as they approached. "I'm pleased you've accepted my proposal. Let me introduce you to Sanada Akihiko, he'll be assisting me on this mission and in your training efforts."

"A pleasure to meet you," said Makoto. Ren followed up with a nod.

"Likewise," Sanada gave the pair a polite smile.

"If you would please walk this way," Kirijo gestured to the table with the floor plans. "I want to go over the mission outline. It will inform your training."

As the four of them walked across the floor, Makoto turned to the older man. "Sanada-san, would you happen to work in law enforcement?"

"That's right," said Sanada, his eyes open with a hint of a grin tugging at his right cheek. "Does my reputation precede me?"

"No, it's not that," Makoto shook her head slightly, biting her lip and looking down like she was pondering something. "It's just... something about the way you carry yourself."

"Huh," Sanada's eyebrows raised. He said nothing more as they gathered around the table.

"This is the best intel we have on the resort hosting the gala. The underground areas in particular may be incomplete or out of date," said Kirijo, waving her hand over the table. Several sheets were laid out, presumably representing different floors. She pointed to a few areas circled in red. "We believe the prototype is most likely to be housed in one of these areas. During the gala, we expect a few participants in the auction will want to inspect the goods. You will need to observe movements in and out of the hall to narrow down the possible locations of the prototype."

"What about the bidding?" asked Makoto.

"Most likely they have some mechanism or signal to allow bidding directly from the main hall, like passing a token to the waiters," said Kirijo. Her tone remained business-like. "The guests unaware of the auction simply won't notice. You may be able to pick out staff involved with the auction this way. Akihiko and I will be able to provide some support in narrowing down locations, but there won't be much time and we'll want to minimize detectable communication. You'll have to make a decision with incomplete information. From there, how you conduct your thievery is up to you."

"What kind of security measures should we expect?" Makoto brought her hand to her chin.

"There will be guards, cameras, electronic locks, laser gates—basically the best money can buy," said Kirijo. "There will likely also be shadows."

"Our opponents can control shadows?" Ren looked up from the map.

"No," said Kirijo. "But they know how to pass through shadow-infested areas safely, provided there aren't too many of them and they aren't agitated. The shadows act as a hazard. Without proper containment, the prototype itself may also attract more powerful shadows."

"Hmm," Makoto was still looking down at the floor plans. "We haven't dealt with real world security measures, only the kind in the Metaverse."

"Part of your training these next few weeks will be in circumventing those measures." It was Sanada who spoke this time. "Based on our experience and yours, we're counting on you to pick up what you need quickly."

Makoto nodded, but Ren noticed a slight movement beneath her lips. She was worried. "And the prototype... what is it like?"

"It's shaped like a tarot card," Kirijo responded. "It shouldn't be difficult to carry or hide."

"And after we obtain the card?" Ren faced Kirijo. "It won't take long for them to notice."

"You'll leave the premises as soon as possible," the woman explained. "We'll have a boat waiting for you at the pier."

"We'll continue to go over the details as we get closer to the event," said Sanada.

"As you can see we have a lot to cover," said Kirijo. "Tech training, persona training, etiquette training. Now let's see where you're at with your personas."

Ren and Makoto followed Kirijo and Sanada to another corner of the floor. It seemed to be a target range, with reinforced black walls in front of the windows and similarly reinforced flooring. Wooden training dummies were scattered over the area, some close by and some all the way at the end. At the end nearest to them was a table full of metallic devices of various shapes. One looked like a handgun. Another bore resemblance to a collar. None of them looked pleasant.

"I see you've noticed our line of evokers," said Kirijo. A sly smile crossed her lips. "In the past we used these to assist in summoning our personas. However, we no longer need them."

"How do they work?" Makoto squinted at the items on the table, bringing a loose fist in front of her chest. Ren could tell she was biting the inside of her lip. Hopefully Kirijo and Sanada couldn't.

"It's a bit complicated, but glossing over the details, they stress the cognition of the user. The pressure can force the manifestation of the persona," Kirijo spoke like what she was saying was of no matter.

"Oh." Makoto continued to look at the array of equipment on the table. Ren didn't like it. Makoto struggled enough with anxiety as it was. They didn't need to cause more artificially. Furthermore, the evokers all looked like torture devices.

"Hopefully you have enough experience that you won't need them," said Sanada. He smiled.

"So what should we do?" Makoto turned to Sanada.

"Summon your persona and unleash its power on one of these dummies," Kirijo interjected. She rested the back of her wrist against her hip. Her lips curved upwards. "Don't worry about the damage. They're made with treated wood and the walls and floor are reinforced. We've contained many a persona here."

"But how do I-" asked Makoto.

"Concentrate," said Kirijo. "Try doing what you would do in your Metaverse."

Makoto closed her eyes. Her lips were pressed together and the skin between her eyebrows puckered. She brought a hand over her face.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw Kirijo arch an eyebrow in his direction. He needed to be working too.

Ren closed his eyes. How did one summon a persona in the real world? He had first met Arsene in the real world, had he not? What did that feel like?

Wasn't it a bit like opening his third eye?

Ren further recalled drawing upon the presence of his personas in building bonds with his friends. What more did it take to have them manifest?

He concentrated, focusing on the image of his Joker mask over his eyes. He tuned himself to the circulation of blood, of energy through his entire body, picturing it flowing towards his mask. He imagined his soul falling out of time, to the space where he and Arsene first met.

It didn't feel stressful at all and yet somehow Ren knew he was on the right path. He brought a hand over his face. "Arsene!"

He didn't need to turn around. He knew he was successful. Through the spaces between his fingers, he saw the rush of blacks, grays, and reds hit one of the target dummies.

Lowering his hand and letting Arsene fade back into his consciousness, Ren turned towards the others. Kirijo was smiling with bright, cat-like eyes. Sanada's eyebrows were raised, his lips brought together like he wanted to whistle. Makoto's mouth hung open and what little color she had seemed to drain.

"Good," Kirijo blinked slowly, the smile never leaving her face. "But can you do it again?"

Ren only grinned in return.

Agathion. Pixie. Hua Po. Silky. Eligor. Apsaras. Jack Frost. Ren brought forth a different persona each time. He kept to the weaker ones. He wanted to conserve energy, to ramp up to the breaking point of the dummies if possible, and to keep the extents of his abilities hidden from Kirijo and Sanada for as long as he could.

It also helped that he was distracting them from Makoto. Every time he looked up he could see her struggle. She balled her fists a little tighter. The crease between her eyebrows deepened. Her face had red marks from pressing the tips of her fingers too hard. Her chest rose and fell too fast, too briefly. Her eyes seemed to search but there was fear behind them.

"Manifique!" Kirijo brought her hands together in a soft clap at Ren's latest abuse of the training dummies. "It seems you've mastered real world summoning already... as expected of a wild card."

"We should stop now," said Sanada. "Real world summoning takes more energy, especially at first. He'll be feeling it once the adrenaline wears off."

"Hmm. True. We shouldn't have let it go this far. He has more than demonstrated his skill," said Kirijo. She turned to Makoto. Her expression dropped. "Niijima on the other hand... perhaps we should advance to using an evoker."

Makoto looked towards Kirijo and nodded, then turned towards the table of devices. She began to slowly reach her hand out as she walked over. Her eyes swept over the choices before her.

"Wait," Ren slid between Makoto and the table. "Isn't this a bit premature? If I can do it, Makoto should be able to too. Just give her more time. We've barely had any time to think about it."

Kirijo paused, her lips forming a thin line. Her eyes shifted back and forth. "I suppose we can give it a night... but we don't have much time. You need practice working with them in the real world."

Makoto turned and gave Ren a small smile. There was still tension between her eyebrows but he felt relieved nonetheless.

"Well then," Kirijo clapped her hands together. "It's about time you two got changed."

* * *

Makoto stretched her shoulders and waist. The gown Kirijo-san had given her was too tight through the bodice, especially at the chest. Her toes felt crammed into the high (high!) heels that went with the outfit. Even with the added height, the skirt went down to the floor, making it all the more difficult to walk. Just about the only thing the ensemble had going for it was the color, a satinny garnet that went with her eyes.

At least this time they didn't have to do make up and jewelry. She was warned they would be ramping up in the coming days.

"Splendid," Kirijo-san said as Makoto exited the walk-in closet, one of many, in the maze-like private quarters attached to what was presumably the woman's office. The way Kirijo-san looked at her wasn't entirely encouraging. Makoto tried to tell herself it was just in her head. It was just worry over her earlier failure in summoning a persona.

"Thank you." Makoto's voice felt small.

The other woman didn't say anything, only gestured towards the elevators before taking off. Makoto followed her. It felt like the back of her shoes were falling off her heels but at the same time her toes were mashing into the tips. Did heel-toe even work in these things?

"This isn't a march," said Kirijo-san, punctuated by a harsh exhale. "You're the arm candy of a trust fund baby. Your walk should be refined,  _sexy_  even. Watch me."

Kirijo-san's boots made even clacks as she strode forward. Her hips swayed effortlessly. Even her hair seemed to bounce lightly with each step. Makoto focused on her feet, trying to copy the movement, but each time her heel met the floor it felt unstable and awkward, like she needed to brace herself from tripping. She was thankful she was at least behind Kirijo-san, where she couldn't be seen.

The elevator ride back to the training floor was equally awkward. Makoto felt like she was being scrutinized the entire time. She was surprised Kirijo-san didn't say anything. Did she just not know where to start?

When the elevator arrived at its destination, the older woman was unwittingly kind enough to step out first, allowing Makoto to tip-toe behind her. She could make out Sanada-san waiting for them. And Ren...?

Stepping out from behind Kirijo-san, Makoto caught sight of her friend. He was wearing a classic tuxedo, plain black over a pure white shirt. It hadn't even been tailored yet but it amplified that easy charm he exuded—the one she could never navigate. He tilted his head forward, smiling as his eyes seemed to pierce through her. She swallowed. Somehow this was going to be much more difficult than the last time they pretended to date.

"You look lovely," Ren leaned in as she and Kirijo-san joined the two men. The skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled. He was so painfully suave.

"Th-thanks," Makoto tried to smile but her lips never quite got there. As she was turning away to hide them, she caught Ren close his eyes and sigh. Her clumsy gait had probably disappointed him too. If only Ann or Haru could have taken the role instead.

Kirijo cleared her throat. "We don't have much time, so from here on out I expect you to practice in formal wear. Don't concern yourself with the upkeep. These are hastily-tailored cheap stand-ins. Fear not. We will have something more appropriate for the gala."

Hastily-tailored cheap stand-ins? Makoto wasn't sure she had ever worn something so nice in her life.

"While we're all still spry," Kirijo continued. "Let's try some sparring."

The woman motioned towards the boxing ring. Sanada-san led the way. Makoto struggled to keep up. She hadn't been wearing the shoes long at all but each step seemed to rub her toes the wrong way. At least they were about to do something Makoto excelled at. She had trained in hand-to-hand combat her entire life.

Sanada-san stepped up into the ring, sliding between the ropes with ease. Ren began to take off his jacket.

"Leave it," said Kirijo-san, raising an open palm in his direction, an indication to stop. "At the gala you might not have time to remove it."

Ren simply nodded and hoisted himself into the ring as Sanada-san had done. Makoto looked to Kirijo-san.

"We'll keep this one-on-one for now," the woman seemed to understand her question.

It was nice of Ren to volunteer to go first with nary a word. Of course, he had also reached the ring first. Makoto shifted her weight, trying to find some comfortable position in her heels. Whatever had been bothering her feet at first had spread beyond her toes.

Once in position in the ring, both men nodded at each other, a silent understanding to begin. Sanada-san wasted no time. In an instant he was at Ren's position, putting forth a flurry of jabs. His arm muscles were apparent through his dress shirt. He had both power and speed. This fact became all the more real seeing Ren's body recoil and his face scrunch when one of Sanada-san's attacks landed.

It didn't happen too often though.

For the most part Ren managed to dodge. While Sanada-san's style was a testament to practice and form, Ren had always lived up to his Joker codename, moving unexpectedly and with the lightness of a nymph. Sanada-san threw significantly more punches. Ren waited for trickier openings to exploit. Both men were smiling.

If Makoto had to score, Sanada-san was the more dominant fighter. However, she knew Ren would come through in a pinch, but this was practice.

"That's enough," Kirijo-san hadn't spoken particularly loudly but somehow the bluntness of the statement caught their attention. The two men stepped back from each other and looked over at her. Kirijo-san continued. "Good. It seems your fighting skills are at an acceptable level. Now, Niijima."

Makoto walked up to the ring. She was about to begin climbing in when she realized it wasn't exactly  _refined_  to be making such motions in a gown. Maybe it would be okay if she kept her legs together. She put her hands on the floor of the ring and lifted herself, sliding her legs under the ropes like a mermaid tail.

When Makoto looked up, Ren was holding out his hand to her. She took it. He yanked her up harder than she was expecting. Not completely steady on her heels, she stumbled into him. His face was so near to hers because they were much closer in height, even with the centimeters he had gained in his year away.

"Good luck," Ren whispered in her ear before righting her and climbing out of the ring.

His breath felt warm.

Makoto took a moment to let her blush subside before turning to Sanada-san and setting up her stance. It felt odd being so far from the floor, but she trusted in her legs.

Sanada-san took a similar stance. "Ready?"

Makoto nodded. As with Ren, Sanada-san moved to close the distance between them right away. Interesting. She thought he would try to change things up given that she had seen the earlier fight. Was he testing her? She slid her back foot to turn herself out of the way... or at least she tried to. Her heel caught on something. By the time she knew what it was, she was falling to the mat without Sanada-san having landed a single hit.

"Oof!"

This time it was Sanada-san who was offering a hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah..." Makoto said as she got up, eschewing any attempts to be  _ladylike_. "I ran into my skirt... it dragged more than I thought it would when I bent my knees. Can we try again?"

"Sure." Sanada-san smiled the same way he did when fighting Ren.

The two set themselves up again and as before Sanada-san came in fast. However, this time he held his forward shoulder a little lower. He was changing things up. However, the shift was a little  _too_  conspicuous. He was definitely testing her with that obvious a tell. She took cover where his fists would have landed the first time. He grinned.

Makoto didn't have a foresight advantage of the rest of his moves though. Unable to completely trust her footwork, she had to rely on blocking more. Though she suspected Sanada-san was pulling his punches, she was still taking a lot of punishment.

He had openings though and she took them, more aggressively than Ren did. She mostly kept to punches, but attempted a few kicks. It was always risky though as she could feel her ankles wobble as she tried to adjust to fighting in heels. Even with her more aggressive approach, she was being easily pushed back and she knew it. She at least wanted to last as long as Ren.

That dream was soon cut short. Sanada-san was more than just punches. The broad of his leg hit Makoto across the stomach, propelling her upward enough that she lost contact with the ground. She couldn't have been in the air that long, but it seemed like her feet desperately searched for the floor. She landed on the edge of one her pointy heels. She tried to propel herself in the right direction but her heel slipped under her, sending her to the mat with a lot of horizontal momentum leftover. She rolled, too fast to grapple the ropes at the end of the ring as she spun under. She braced for her fall.

Instead slamming into the hard floor, Makoto found herself in the much more forgiving arms of Ren. Judging by the way his jaw was hanging open, his chest was heaving, and the wild look in his eyes, he had made it just in time. "Th-thanks."

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths.

"Y-yeah." It was really...  _comfortable_... being held by Ren, even if she had just failed at hand-to-hand combat, something she was supposedly good at. It would be nice not to think about it—and not to think about how much her toes hurt—and just stay as they were. Things would get weird though. Things were already getting weird. She had stayed too long. "Um... Ren?"

"Oh... right. Good." Ren lowered the arm beneath her legs, letting her slip back down to the floor. He held firm against her back, making sure she was stable. By the time he let go, Kirijo-san and Sanada-san had gathered.

"Hmmm," said Kirijo-san. She frowned. "This is going to take some work."

Makoto tried not to visibly wince.

"Why don't we adjourn for lunch? We can see where your table manners are next," Kirijo-san seemed to be looking at her with doubt. "First let's make sure there are no injuries. Artemisia."

Kirijo-san's persona appeared, erasing any doubt she had one. It was stark but feminine, much like the woman herself. Artemisia had the form and countenance of a noble woman, wearing ornate golden armor over a dark blue dress with a full skirt.... and, as if to taunt Makoto, the persona's boots were finished with pointy golden high heels.

* * *

Mitsuru looked out over the city lights from her office window. She swirled the glass of red wine as she went over the events earlier that day.

"You look worried," Akihiko's words held no judgement.

"I am worried." She didn't turn to him.

"The wild card is strong," said Akihiko.

"They always are," she sighed. "It's the other one. I looked into her background. She was student council president at her school yet she acts without grace and stumbles over her words. She's supposed to have martial arts training yet she could barely last three minutes with you. Perhaps their team didn't face anything as serious as ours..."

"She has potential. It's only been one day."

"I would have-"

"You can't expect her to be your clone Mitsuru." Akihiko paused. She knew that tone. He was waiting for her to turn to him. She complied. "We'll get there. If not, we'll alter the plan. We've always come through. Look I know how important this one is to you-"

"Mm." Mitsuru turned back to the window. Akihiko need not repeat what they both knew. "We'll see."


	3. Let's Add A Dance

Makoto took a deep breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was the first time all day that Kirijo-san hadn't followed her into what the woman referred to as the "powder room." The three-room suite was fancier and quite possibly larger than Makoto's apartment.

Day two had started with renewed hope and vigor. Makoto had liked the orange gown Kirijo-san had put her in. It wasn't her usual choice but somehow it came together with the makeup they were testing out to evoke a warm autumn spirit, even though it was spring outside. She felt that maybe she was beginning to look the part. However, it was now mid-afternoon and staring at herself everything just seemed wrong and out of place. It was unclear if it was the dress or just her.

Training had begun with an intense ninety minutes of Makoto failing to summon Anat. Ren had to step in on her behalf yet again. This had been followed by more sparring with Sanada-san. On that front it seemed like she was only getting worse, not better. Lunch was packed dense with instruction on table manners. While Makoto never made the same mistake twice, nothing seemed to please Kirijo-san.

The one saving grace of the day was the couple hours they spent learning about their target's security systems. Another woman came to teach Makoto and Ren how to circumvent electronic locks while Kirijo-san was in a meeting. Makoto had been praised for her how quickly she was picking things up. She was standing on par with Ren for once.

...Or rather sitting on par with Ren. Sitting had been a treat.

Makoto bit her lip and exhaled through her nose.

Sis, Eiko, Haru, Ann, Kirijo-san... no one else seemed to have trouble with heels.

What was wrong with her?

Studying security technology had been too brief a break, even though they had worked on it for several hours. Makoto thought that after all that time she'd be ready to face Kirijo-san but the closer reality got, the more she felt she didn't want to go back. However, she was no quitter. She willed herself off the cushioned bench on which she was seated, gritting her teeth as her toes pressed into the shoes.

"You were in there quite some time," Kirijo-san said as Makoto exited the ladies' room. "Was anything amiss?"

"No, nothing," Makoto replied. She had prepared an excuse. "I was just taking time to let Yamagishi-san's lessons sink in."

"Ah, so that's your study method." Kirijo-san's response was barely a question. Makoto chose not to answer, merely following the other woman to the area of the floor devoted to their next task. As they walked, Kirijo-san made one more comment. "You're still marching. Have you been practicing at home?"

"There wasn't really much time yesterday after-"

"That's no excuse," though Kirijo-san's tone was calm, the statement stung. "We don't have much time until the operation."

Makoto parted her lips, letting the smallest of sighs escape. Usually she was the one telling other students to stop making excuses.

She knew better than to dig herself deeper.

The men were waiting for them by a section of the floor set with finely lacquered hardwood. Ren smiled kindly, the type of smile Makoto found so confusing. It really wasn't that different from Sanada-san's and yet there was something about it that felt special. Perhaps it was just the tuxedo or the way they had styled his hair. Like with her, they were experimenting with his looks for the gala.

Kirijo-san turned to the two of them. "Do either of you know how to dance?"

"We were taught a few dances for our school festival, back home." Ren was earnest, quiet, and unassuming in his answer. It was the side of him that made his more Joker-like tendencies so surprising.

"We didn't do that at Shujin..." said Makoto, suppressing a gulp. She should have expected this. She should have prepared.

"Right," Ren turned to her. "No bonfire."

Makoto nodded. She chewed on the back of her lip. Dancing with Ren, especially after all her screw ups so far, seemed  _wrong_  somehow.

Kirijo-san smiled at Ren. "Well, at least you have  _some_  experience with the basics. I wasn't that different when I was your age."

She turned back to the both of them. "Like most parties of this nature, there will be live music and a dance floor. You can use this opportunity to move freely across the room, get close to targets of interest, and have relatively shielded conversations... provided you can dance well enough as to not attract the wrong kind of attention. Watch us first."

Kirijo-san offered her hand to Sanada-san. He took it and led her onto the hardwood flooring. Once there, he put his other arm on her back.

"Music." At Kirijo-san's command, an instrumental piece started playing from all directions. Wherever the speakers were installed, they were well hidden.

With a nod, the pair took off, gliding across the floor in bold strides, their feet moving in tight formation. Makoto was already intent on paying close attention but seeing them in action, she realized it was hard to look away. She couldn't put her finger on what it was about their movements, about the way they looked at each other... what was it and how could she replicate it?

Kirijo-san twirled out of Sanada-san's arms, nearly reaching the edge of the dance floor, only to be caught by her partner just in time and guided back across. Long red hair flowed behind her, accentuating their steps.

"This is what she calls flying under the radar?" Ren whispered. Makoto looked up, finding his eyebrows raised and a sly grin on his face. She would have laughed, but another explanation bubbled up her thoughts.

"Does this mean everyone at the party-"

"Niijima!" Kirijo-san's voice pierced the conversation. "Pay attention!"

Makoto snapped her focus back to the dancing couple. "Y-yes!"

A few more minutes of watching Kirijo-san and Sanada-san didn't give Makoto much more insight, despite her attempts to analyze it in process. She found herself getting more distracted by the weight against toes, how even just standing hurt. She alternated her weight between feet, trying to take the pressure off and give each one a chance to recover. It was a losing battle.

Soon the older pair were back standing before them. They didn't even appear to have broken a sweat.

"This is what you're aiming for." It was a simple statement. Kirijo-san didn't seem to understand the difficulty of what she was asking. "Notice how we were able to cover the entire floor in just one song.

"Um..." Makoto raised her hand, stopping it at shoulder height. "Isn't dancing like that a bit...  _flashy_... if we're undercover?"

"The people dancing at the gala will all be well-experienced," said Kirijo-san. She squinted slightly, as if she was confused by Makoto's question.

"We did push it a bit far, Mitsuru," said Sanada-san. He turned to Makoto and smiled. "We've also purposefully created distractions this way before."

" _You'll_  probably not reach this level in the time we have," Kirijo-san shook her head. She kept speaking without pause. "But if you strive for it, you should become competent enough for short periods of time. Now, please try it together first. I want to see how much work we need to do."

Kirijo-san motioned towards the dance floor. Makoto and Ren followed her direction. They stood facing each other, not far from the edge of the hardwood.

"Music."

The same piece from before began to play. Ren stepped forward, taking Makoto's hand in his and placing his other hand on her back. She jolted at the touch, her body becoming uncomfortably flushed at the feel of his hand against her bare back. Her eyes darted towards his arm.

"Sorry," Ren was looking right at her when she shifted her gaze back. He was frowning. "Is this ok-"

"A little higher," commanded Kirijo-san. Ren complied, his hand coming to rest on Makoto's shoulder blade. The order left little time for getting comfortable. "Begin."

Makoto thought back to the demonstration they had just seen. She could keep beat with the music fairly well. After all, she received top marks on the recorder when she was in elementary school. Mimicking the steps of the dance wasn't too different than practicing kata. She could do this.

At the next beat, Makoto began the dance. The persistent pain in her feet seemed lessened by the movement, though she could feel some unwanted friction as her toes rubbed against the sides of the shoes. No matter. If she could just prove to Kirijo-san she could dance, maybe they could stop early.

"Um... Makoto...?"

She was vaguely aware of the whisper. She'd get to it in a moment, once she found her footing. Though awkward in heels, Makoto did her best to take long strides, to travel across the floor. A few steps were weak. She could feel the tip of the heel trying to slide out from under her, but she forced it to work by sheer willpower.

"Makoto." The whisper was more urgent this time, but in just a few more steps she'd-

"Stop!" Kirijo-san's call cut through the music. Makoto and Ren halted in place, his hand still on her back. "This is all wrong. You're not supposed to lead Niijima, if that yanking of poor Amamiya's arms can be called leading. Furthermore, what are you doing with your legs? You're moving like a newborn giraffe."

"I..." Makoto's instinct was defend herself, but she knew better. Those would be excuses. But Yanking? Giraffe? "Oh."

Kirijo-san exhaled a breathy sigh. "Do it again. Music."

The instrumental started again from the beginning. Makoto just wanted to hide. Her face felt hot with embarrassment. She peeked up at Ren. He nudged her closer with the hand that was on her back.

"Just follow my cues," he whispered. "Like we do during a heist."

_Like a heist..._

Makoto worried her lips between her teeth but nodded. They had no trouble signaling to each other in the Metaverse. Why should it be different here?

"Let's take it slow for now," Ren continued. "Ready?"

Makoto nodded again. At the next measure, Ren leaned just a hair as he began his step. Makoto matched him by stepping back. Before she could step too far, she felt a nudge at her back. She narrowed her stride accordingly.

It felt stiff at first, mechanical. It seemed as though she was always half a step behind, off-beat. The shortened distance between each step made it easier to maintain balance, but Makoto still had moments where she fought her own feet. As the song went on, every footfall became more and more difficult. She grit her teeth as her toes rubbed against the tips of her shoes.

The sound of Ren exhaling caught Makoto's attention. She looked up at him.

His eyes shifted to hers as well. He whispered. "Is dancing with me that bad?"

Makoto had been so caught up in the discomfort of her feet and the need not to mess up, she hadn't consciously thought about what she was doing. Here she was, dressed up and dancing with  _Amamiya Ren,_ the most kind and and talented and dashing and well, _perfect,_ guy she had ever met. It was like some idle fantasy gone horribly wrong.

Perhaps it was better that way.

After all, he was dating a celebrity, and even if she couldn't compare, it still wouldn't be right.

"N-no," she whispered back. Her eyes returned to the floor. "It's just... I'm still not used to the shoes."

"You're doing much better," Ren had leaned in close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear. For a moment, she forgot about her feet.

"Th-thanks," she managed. Trying to ignore that it was  _Ren_  she was dancing so closely with, Makoto realized that she had stopped thinking about following him. At the very least, that was coming more naturally.

Just like a heist.

A few measures later and the song came to a finish. Ren let go of Makoto. The two turned to Kirijo-san and Sanada-san. The former turned to the latter, her eyes widening just a hair.

"I see," said Kirijo-san as she turned back to Makoto and Ren. "We can work with this. If Niijima can learn to move gracefully, we may very well be able to use some advanced techniques by the gala."

_Learn to move gracefully..._

"Now we can proceed with the lesson," Kirijo-san continued. "Niijima will work with Akihiko. Amamiya will work with me."

"Right," Makoto acknowledged. She walked over to Sanada-san. The thought of finishing the afternoon with him instead of Ren or Kirijo-san was a small relief. However, the fact that she'd be on her toes longer was more disappointing than she had anticipated.

"One moment," said Ren, his head tilting towards the edge of the dance floor. "There's a phone call I have to make."

* * *

"Taller!" Kirijo's voice echoed through the floor, making it hard to determine the direction of its source. "Stick your chest out, as if there were a jewel to present on top."

Ren grit his teeth. Makoto must have come early to practice. Alone. It was only their third day. Kirijo hadn't earned that kind of trust yet.

"L-like this?" Makoto was quieter but still hard to pinpoint in the vastness of the floor.

"Don't stutter." More echoes. 

"S-sorry!" It was only the pitch that carried the words this time. He wondered if she- "Kyaa!"

Ren zeroed in on the scream just in time to watch Makoto fall over backwards, her arms swinging wildly as she fought to remain upright. The tiny stubs of her high heels slipped from under her.

Once falling however, she seemed less panicked. Bending at her knees and twisting, her left hand found the ground first. The fall connected through the rest of her arm and then along her back to the other arm, her head never touching the ground. She stopped, sitting on her thigh and propped up by her other arm, the slinky blue fabric of her gown riding up her legs. She looked frustrated, but otherwise unharmed. Kirijo remained standing, her arms crossed and her expression unchanged. Ren quickened his pace to meet them. 

"Heh. Nice fall." Sanada's near-whisper caused Ren to turn, finding the man following not far behind him. It was unsettling to be snuck up on, but now wasn't the time to think too hard about it.

Kirijo continued to look down at Makoto. "Have you been wearing those outside as I told you?" 

"I have." There was a small waver in her voice. Ren knew it well enough to tell she was fighting to maintain an even tone. Her sound was distorted by the small pout of her lip as she got more annoyed. She stole glances at all three of them while trying to hide her face. It did little to mask the blood rushing to her head.

_Cute._

_..._

_No. Don't think that._

Makoto was on her feet by the time Ren was close enough to do anything. He doubted she would have accepted his help anyway.

"Ah. Good. You're here," Kirijo looked at Ren and then over his shoulder to Sanada. "Let's start with persona training."

The group walked over to the practice dummies. Makoto lagged behind. The table with all of the "evokers" was an ever-present reminder that she had yet to successfully summon Anat. Kirijo and Sanada were growing impatient. He probably wouldn't be able to talk them out of a more aggressive approach a third time.

Ren made short work of his trials. In just a few days, he was able to summon his personas more fluidly, and in a tuxedo no less. They were still more of a strain than he was used to, but he had faith he was building stamina.

Makoto on the other hand seemed to be backsliding. The day before she had come with renewed vigor, methodically testing several approaches, trying to put his advice into practice. (At least, that's what he surmised from her body language.) This time however she seemed more stiff, her face constantly  strained. She wasn't getting anywhere.

Ren summoned some stronger personas. They seemed to momentarily catch Kirijo and Sanada's attention, giving Makoto a little space, but it still wasn't enough.

As a last ditch effort, he considered summoning Mara. That would certainly distract them. On the other hand, Makoto might think ill of him and well, he still had vivid memories of Ann, whip taut across both hands, telling him that "he'd be sorry" the next time he even thought about "whipping out his giant-"

Kirijo cleared her throat. "I think it's about time we moved on."

Ren opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

"We can't afford to wait any longer," Kirijo added while staring him down.

"R-right." Makoto made small steps towards the table. Upon arriving, she wrapped her hand around the evoker that looked like a handgun. There was no hesitation. She must have already thought about it, envisioned it. The handle seemed to fit comfortably, her experience from their Metaverse weapons showing through. She began to lift it, twisting her wrist so the barrel turned towards her.

"Wait!" Ren was next to her in two strides. His outstretched fingers curled over the evoker, guiding it away from her until it was back on the table.

"We've been  _through_  this-" Kirijo began to object.

"Let me just try one more thing." Ren put his hands on Makoto's upper arms. She sucked in a breath. His inclination was to pull away. He had forgotten the gesture would be startling given the sleeveless nature of her gown, but now wasn't the time to let propriety stop him. She looked up at him, her lips set and her eyes watery. This was bad. "Come on Makoto-"

"I-" her voice hitched.

"Remember the time we awoke Anat," Ren sped through the words. "That was in the real world. Think back to that-"

"We were at Big Bang Burger..." Makoto's gaze shifted down, no longer meeting his.

"Interesting," Kirijo cupped one of her elbows, her other hand finding its way to her chin. "Do we need to go to this Okumura-"

"That's not important," Ren gave the woman a brief stare through narrowed eyes before returning to Makoto. He shook her, just enough to regain her attention. "Remember that feeling. What was it like when Anat came to you?"

"Remember that feeling..." she repeated softly. Her head began to wander again. She was shaking.

Ren brought a hand to her cheek to stop her. He leaned in, meeting her forehead with his. He closed his eyes. "Remember. Come on Makoto. I'm with you... just like then."

He felt her take a deep breath. Her face relaxed.

Was she closing her eyes as well?

He tried to sync his breathing with hers. His grip on her arm loosened. Instead he ran his thumb back and forth over it. His thumb on her cheek moved the same. Everything... the same rhythm. She seemed to calm further. Together they found a pace.

"I'm right here with you," he spoke just above a whisper. She seemed to nod in acknowledgement.

He waited. Everything seemed to still.

"Anat."

They lifted their heads simultaneously. Ren was vaguely aware of the shots of cyan that flew past them, but his attention was focused only on the woman in front of him. Her wide-eyed look of surprise slowly transformed into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen, the kind that seemed to reach directly into his chest, set off fireworks, and surround him in a gentle warmth.

The bonds he created during their time as Phantom Thieves, were they all like this?

Had he forgotten?

"Watch out!"

A large hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him back from the dummies before letting go. He looked up to find Sanada with his arm wrapped around Makoto's shoulders, holding her into his chest. The hand that had just been on Ren's wrist came up to shield her head.

Ren tore his gaze away to look over to where they formerly stood. The nearest practice dummy was ablaze in red and orange flames. The sprinkler above it was on, but did little to abate the fire.

Before he could react further, Kirijo rushed by him, fire extinguisher in hand. She sprayed the dummy with a white chemical fire retardant until the flames subsided. She stared at it for a few seconds, likely ensuring the fire was truly out, before turning to the others. Her eyes closed as she smiled. "Well. That was a surprise."

"Um... S-Sanada-san?" Makoto's voice was muffled. She had her hands against the other man's chest, like she was trying to push away.

"Oh," Sanada released her. He straightened his tie. "My apologies."

"Th-thank you... for looking out for us," Makoto dipped her head. She turned so she could see all three of them. "I thought the dummies were fire-resistant."

"They are.... to  _agi_  skills," Kirijo looked straight at Makoto, furrowing her brow. "That skill your persona used... we have not encountered it before. I would like to know more."

Makoto glanced over to Ren. He pressed his lips together. They didn't have much choice. She seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"Anat's elemental affinity is known as frei," said Makoto. "It bears similarity to nuclear reactions but doesn't seem to have the same long term repercussions."

"Interesting," the crease between Kirijo's eyes deepened.

"Th-there really isn't much else to say..." Makoto was conveniently leaving out the interaction between her element and the others. Ren suppressed a smile. Even when intimidated by Kirijo, she was smart.

"I would like to see more." Eyes sparkling, the other woman clasped her hands together in front of her.

"We'll need to retrofit the dummies first," said Sanada. Kirijo turned to him, raising an eyebrow, but then smiled and nodded.

"Perhaps if we kept a safe distance..." Makoto offered. Ren swallowed a sigh. Okay. Perhaps not always smart... she still had people pleasing tendencies. "Since we have access to our personas' healing capa-"

"That won't work here." Kirijo's response was sharp. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "It would be best to get out of the habit of relying on healing skills."

"What do you mean,  _won't work?_ " Ren's eyes narrowed.

"Skills that affect humans have diminished effects in the real world," explained Sanada. "They can only alter reality so much."

"It's one thing to attack a shadow, a being that comes from outside our plane," Kirijo added. "It's another to change something within it. If healing were as effective outside of that realm and its constructs, we'd be using it for far more than battling shadows."

"It's a fine first response," Sanada continued. "But it's not going to undo anything drastic."

Ren and Makoto said nothing at first, letting their words sink in.

Finally, Makoto spoke. "So then ailment skills..."

"Their effectiveness on shadows is unchanged," said Sanada. "It's already rather low, so-"

"Though, they can be used quite effectively, given the right strategy," Kirijo smiled, standing up even straighter than normal.

Sanada opened his mouth, but it closed it again. He made a polite, but strained smile. "That's right."

"Against humans, they seem to only work when they can capitalize on what is already there, but in those cases they can be quite potent," said Kirijo. "In particular, the travails of modern life have made dormina essential for most of our operations."

Ren nodded. Without access to the Velvet Room, it would take longer for him to recall a persona with such a skill, but he would be able. However, Makoto never had such a capability.

Kirijo seemed to catch on when he turned to look at his teammate. "The Kirijo Group has developed dormina cards for use in our operations. We'll see that you're trained and outfitted."

"Thank you," Makoto brought her hands before her chest, holding one fist in another.

"Let's take 15 minutes and meet at the ring," said Kirijo. The others nodded in response.

Makoto began walking towards the restrooms. She seemed to spend most of her break time in there. It only took a few strides for Ren to catch up.

"Hey Makoto, are you busy after this? There's someone I want you to meet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Kirijo Mitsuru 2019/05/08! (It’s that time in Japan now… not quite here yet.)
> 
> Thanks to [Zinzanzelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinzanzelf/pseuds/Zinzanzelf) for pointing out a typo, now fixed (2019/05/11).


	4. Let's Add A Mentor

Ren and Makoto walked through the streets of the red light district in Shinjuku. Maybe it was just fatigue from summoning so many personas earlier that day (and then taking a pounding from Sanada), but Ren found his thoughts wandering more than normal. There was something wistfully nostalgic about being there with Makoto again. One of their first outings together had been on these very streets, searching for Shujin students in bad situations. It was also the place she-

No. It was better not to dwell.

...

Did she feel awkward too?

...

Usually they walked side-by-side, but this time Makoto trailed a few paces behind him.

Ren hadn't told her where they were going—she rushed out of the Kirijo Group building so fast, he hadn't gotten a chance. On the train she seemed to be busy thinking about something else. He tried to start a conversation but she was unresponsive. 

He looked back. She was mostly keeping her eyes pointed towards the ground.

They had changed out of their formal wear. She wore black leggings and that blue pea coat she seemed to really like. The only difference from back then were high-heeled shoes rather than her usual boots. Ren considered saying something, encouraging her not trail behind, but he didn't want to force her given-

_Wait._

Something wasn't right.

Ren turned back again, this time opening his third eye. The familiar Priestess card floated above Makoto's head. However, it was scuffed at the bottom, almost dog-eared. What did that me-

He dropped his gaze to the ground. The edges of Makoto's shoes, right by the sides of her toes, glowed in a bright blue.

_Her feet are bleeding!_

Ren stopped, his eyes wide. He scooped her up, one arm coming up behind her knees, the other one across her back.

"R-Ren! What are you-"

"Your feet are bleeding!" He was already taking brisk strides towards Crossroads. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'm fine." She didn't look him in the eyes as she said it. "It's just taking me a little time to... Put me down Ren. I can walk. I'm fine."

She squirmed in his arms. He only tightened his grip. Why did she have to be this way? He grit his teeth. "If you were fine you would have slammed me into the pavement the second I even tried this."

"Th-that was... I was just surprised," Makoto pushed against him. "Put me down."  

"No," Ren could be just as firm.

" _Ren_ ," Despite her emphasis, she managed to keep her voice low. He knew she'd know better than to attract the police that patrolled the area, especially given his record. She was running out of leverage.  

" _Makoto."_ He threw her tone right back at her.

She sighed.

He knew he had won.

"This is so embarrassing." Makoto clutched his shirt and buried her face in his chest. It felt nice, her pressing into him like...

_This is wrong._

"We'll be there soon," Ren choked out a response, more to distract himself than anything else. He was moving as fast as he could.

Dipping into the alcove where Crossroads was nestled, he turned sideways, his elbow making contact with the door. As the sounds echoed in the confined space, he worried maybe he knocked too much, to loudly. He'd have to apologize to Lala for that.

The door opened. Ren had just enough time to process Lala's raised eyebrows as he rushed past her to the seats in the back. "First aid kit!"

"It's no big deal!" Makoto called after. "Just a shoe mishap! Don't rush!"

Ren considered disagreeing but between their shouting and his earlier knocking, there had been enough noise. Lala was doing him a  _favor_  after all. He set Makoto down at a booth, her legs landing out from the table into the open area. He knelt on the floor before her and began slipping off her heels.

"You really don't have to..." she protested. He ignored her.

It was surprising how small the feet were of someone who kicked so hard. He supposed all women were like that. As the first shoe came off she hissed. He peeled off the bloodied bath tissues that were half stuck to her wounds and frowned at the sight of a bruised, blistered, and bleeding foot. Her toes were curling like she wanted to retract them into herself. Removing the second shoe revealed the same. They looked awful.

The skin between his brows creased as Ren surveyed the damage. He held one foot in each hand, looking between the two. Hopefully Lala had enough supplies. If not, surely there was a drug store nearby.

"Um..." Makoto's voice was nearly swallowed by the lounge. "Do you think it's weird if a girl can't walk in heels?"

"I've never once thought that." There was a bite to his tone that he couldn't suppress. She let this happen. And for what? Some dumb sense of pride? "I brought you here so you could learn."

"Eh?"

"I asked Lala to help you. I should have mentioned it sooner." Ren took a deep breath. It wasn't like she could practice if her feet were like this. He closed his eyes. "Pixie."

The faerie persona appeared between them. Swirls of white spun around his hands and her feet.

Nothing.

He pressed his lips together. It was as Kirijo and Sanada said. However, he had more powerful skills.

"Ren, don't," she reached out, her fingertips finding his shoulder. "You've already-"

He shrugged her hand off.

"Titania."

Larger, stronger streams of white encompassed the both of them.

This time her open wounds began to clot. Her blisters shrank. Her bruises became less angry. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Ren blinked several times. His breaths were heavy. There was an odd sensation, like he was floating somewhere above himself. He shook his head. A few more times and her feet would be completely healed. "Tita-"

"Stop." A hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up to find her leaning over. She seemed really close and kind of fuzzy. "That's already too much. You don't look so good."

Ren squinted. His wanted to protest but by the time he got to forming words he had forgotten what she had said. "Hmm?"

Makoto brought a hand to his cheek. He leaned into it. It felt pretty. Could things feel pretty?

"Ren... After everything today, that was probably too-"

An exaggerated cough brought both of their attentions to Lala. She was standing by the curtains that partitioned their seating area from the rest of the bar. In her hands was a tray with two glasses of water and a box that presumably contained first aid supplies. Why she was there and how he knew he wasn't sure of anymore.

Makoto snapped upright, pulling her hands back and sitting straight as a rod. She tried to lift her feet from Ren's grasp.

That wouldn't do. 

He brought his fingers up against the back of her heels.

"Um..." Makoto looked down at her lap. Color was rising to her cheeks. She tried to pull her feet back again, but he held tight. It seemed important, somehow.

Ren stared down at the feet. Why was he holding them again? It seemed imperative that he did. Whose were they? Why were they so little?

"Ren..." A familiar voice followed by a nervous laugh. This time one of the feet tugged even harder, slipping from his fingers. The next thing he knew it connected hard against his jawline. His head recoiled and he fell backward, letting go the other foot as he caught himself with his arms.

"Oh no! Ren! I'm so sorry!"

She was on her knees in the space between his open legs, leaning over with a hand against his cheek. Her eyes were big and her face was pink. She was cute.

She was very, very cute.

"Are you okay?" She nibbled the corner of her lip.

He squinted again. Why wouldn't he be okay? He lifted one of his arms, snaking it around her waist as he flashed his most charming grin. "Very."

Her back shot straighter than he thought humanly possible. Her whole head turned bright red. It crept down her neck, even through the collar of her shirt. She let go of his chin and started shoving down at the arm wrapped around her. Why would she do that? She was weird. Weird and cute. He didn't budge.

"Uh...." Her gaze darted between him and the other woman as she continued pressing down on his arm. "I-I think Ren got a little d-dehydrated while carrying me here."

"I see." Lala stepped closer and set the tray on the table.

Makoto managed to wriggle free, escaping back to the booth. Her lips seemed to tremble. What did he do wrong?

The older woman approached Ren, lifting his chin with her hand and staring. "Probably just low blood-sugar. I'll get some candy."

Before leaving, Lala offered him a hand. He took it, hoisting himself back to his feet with her help and letting her guide him to the other side of the booth. After she disappeared through the curtains, he turned his attention across the table to Makoto. He furrowed his brow. There was something important involving her. What was it again?

"Ren," Makoto was holding out a glass of water when he looked up. "Here, have some water."

He took the glass with both hands, but let one drop before bringing it to his lips. He downed its entirety in one long sip and handed it back.

"You can have mine," Makoto picked up the second glass.

"No... thank you, I'm feeling better." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"These should help," said Lala, once again at the curtains. She held out a bag of karaimo candies. She shoved the bag at him before crossing over to Makoto. "Now let me take a look."

"Th-thanks," Makoto dipped her chin for a moment but seemed to fight it, keeping eye contact with Lala. "I think we met before but... I'm Niijima Makoto. Thanks for taking care of us."

"Lala Escargot," the woman smiled. "Now... your foot."

Makoto lifted one of her legs, straightening at the knee and then raising it further, such that Lala didn't have to bend down. The older woman caught her foot and began examining it.

Ren took a piece of candy from the bag and began sucking on it. It had a mild flavor as he remembered. His grandparents kept similar ones around their house. He was already beginning to truly feel better, like he could concentrate more easily. It was unclear if that was due to the sugar or just the effects of time. With a clearer head, he began going over his actions. He saw Makoto looking over at him. He lowered his head, rubbing the back of his neck. That had not gone well. 

He needed to focus on something else. The personas. That was a better option. He tried to recall whether it was summoning Titania or the diarahan that sapped his strength. Would the outcome have been the same if he hadn't overdone it with persona training earlier that day?

"Now let's see the other," said Lala as she released Makoto's foot. The younger woman complied. Lala gave the second foot the same care as she did the first. "It's not too bad, but you should let these fully heal before we begin."

"I would like that but..." Makoto took a deep breath. "We're in a bit of a time crunch and... I'm going to have to wear them during the day no matter what... so anything we can do to reduce further damage..."

Lala frowned. "Well, if it can't be helped... we'll do what we can today and then work on improving after that."

Makoto clasped her hands together in front of her. "Y-you think I can...?"

"I've taught dozens of people to walk in heels. I've never failed," Lala smirked. "We'll get you there."

"Really?" Makoto's eyes opened wide and her chest swelled. A small smile pushed up at her cheeks. 

"Really."

"Thank you," Makoto's voice was the loudest he had heard in a while. "I'm in your debt. What should I-"

"Come over when you're ready. I have a few things to take care of before we open." Lala turned to Ren. "Now help her get bandaged up."

Ren nodded as Lala left them alone in the lounge. He picked up the first aid kit and returned to his kneeling position before Makoto.

"I can-" she started.

"I'll take care of it," Ren cut her off. "I'm sorry. I should have noticed sooner."

"It's really not your-"

"We're a team, right?" he looked up at her.

"Yeah..." she said as she turned away, folding her arms in front of her like she was cold.

"Just let me know if it hurts." Ren dabbed ointment on her blisters as gently as he could. It might have been better to leave it to her, but he felt he should at least do this much. She didn't make a peep. Once sufficiently covered, he began wrapping the first layer of bandages.

"Ren..." Makoto spoke again when he was nearly done with both feet. "Do you regret picking me? ...over Yusuke that is."

"No," Ren looked up, waiting for her to turn to him. She was nibbling on her lower lip when she did. "Absolutely not. I still believe you're the best one for this mission. Sure, we're struggling now but-"

"But I won't even be able to use my healing skills," she started gesturing. "And-"

"I didn't just pick you for that," he gave her newly bandaged feet a light tug. "We don't know what the Kirijo Group is up to. I need you to help figure that out—and then come up with a plan to stop them. And then, even after that, when things don't go as planned, come up with another plan, on the fly, to deal with it. That's why I picked you. I know you can do it."

Her cheeks started to bunch into a smile. "Th-thanks."

"I mean every word." Ren returned her smile. He then turned back to the floor, lifting each foot and examining his handiwork. "Ready?"

"I'll try my best." Makoto inhaled and nodded. Her lips were pressed together. Her hands were balled into fists on her lap. That was the determined expression he liked to see.

"Good." He couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you... for all of this Ren," she glanced away for just a moment before meeting him again. "I should have asked for help sooner. I feel so relieved."

"It's my pleasure."

Ren gathered Makoto's shoes, hooking the backs of them with one finger each. He stood up, offering his free hand to her. She took it. He hoisted her up, a little  _too_  vigorously. Makoto stumbled a bit, but caught herself mere centimeters from him. The space between their chests was only enough for their linked hands.

"S-sorry," she said.

She didn't step back.

"It was a team effort," Ren grinned. He ran his thumb over her fingers. His expression slipped. He was vaguely aware he should let go but didn't. Her eyes seemed so large and clear. She was very close. "Look, Makoto-"

**Pi pi pi pi! Pi pi pi pi!**

Ren dropped Makoto's hand and stepped back. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. His alarm.

"I have to go," Ren explained. He held up his phone. "Hifumi's match starts in-"

"R-right!" Makoto seemed to jump a little. She also took another step back. "I'm okay here. You should go. Wish Hifumi-san luck for me!"

"I will." Ren nodded. He handed her the shoes before rushing through the curtains, faster than needed. Meeting eyes with Lala as he passed her by the bar, he held his phone up as means of explanation. "I have to get to the shogi hall. Makoto'll be out in a sec."

Lala merely pursed her lips together. He shrugged off her judging gaze with a signature grin, half-singing his salutation. "Tha~nks La~la!"

* * *

Makoto stood behind the counter as a customer in a suit rattled off his reasons for disagreeing with the latest budget proposal. The news, carried in brief by the radio between musical numbers, had done a piece on it.

The man's face was flush. Two beads of sweat trailed down his right temple.

Lala-san had said making small talk with customers would be good practice for the gala. Makoto feared she was right.

Though her feet were still tender from the first few days of walking in heels, Makoto was improving. Each evening since she first came to Crossroads began with a brief lesson followed by corrections sprinkled in as she bused empty glasses and managed lonely customers. She had offered to work for free in exchange for the training, but Lala-san insisted on paying her. What would Sis say if she knew her little sister was working at a bar in Shinjuku?

Progress during the day was slow, but at least it was progress. With her feet on the mend, Makoto was better able to guard her expression and concentrate on her instruction and on her persona.

Summoning Anat was tiring—Ren suggested he was having an easier time because he could summon less powerful ones but he was probably just trying to make her feel better. In dancing and hand-to-hand she was barely treading water, even if it didn't hurt as much.

Kirijo-san's disapproving looks weighed on her but Lala-san assured her she was working as hard as she could and little more could be expected. She just hoped it would be enough.

The initial elation of getting help with her shoes was wearing off. The worries about the rest of the mission were creeping in.

Makoto tried to pay attention to the customer, but found herself responding only to his most recent statements, not following the thread of his argument. She doubted it was good reconnaissance practice.

It was late by the time the man had said (and drank) his fill.

"You seemed distracted tonight," Lala-san sauntered over to her.

"Oh!" Makoto turned towards her mentor. She looked around the bar, finding it empty. She frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Lala-san waved a hand in front of her mouth. "Nagai-san probably didn't notice."

"Mm." Makoto grimaced.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," said the other woman, tilting her head slightly. "You can't be perfect all the time."

Makoto sighed. "If only."

"You don't know how, do you?" Lala-san put her hand on her hip. She muttered something that sounded like, "How nostalgic..."

"Huh?"

"You don't know how to be less than perfect," Lala-san explained as if it were crystal clear to her. "Everything you do is measured against perfection and only that. You have no way of assessing something as  _good enough_."

"Why would I-" Makoto was quick to defend herself, but stopped. She had always had an inkling, a notion that despite all her time management prowess, she wasn't spending her time well. That was no reason to slack off though, no reason to do things poorly. She had pledged to go full throttle towards her goals, hadn't she? The future police commissioner couldn't be putting in lackluster effort. "How could I do less than my very best?"

"Come now," Lala-san smirked. "Ren-chan tells me you are an excellent tactician and strategist. Surely you see the potential in more wisely allocating your resources. The further you go, the more stuff that does not matter will try to chip away at your time."

"I..." Makoto brought a fist to her chest and looked down. It was as if Lala-san was giving voice to the doubts she tried to shove away. "But how will I know what's good enough?"

"Like all things, experience and practice." Lala-san closed her eyes and smiled.

Makoto exhaled a short breath. Experience and practice would be easier if the stakes weren't so high. "I guess I really should have learned this all in high school. I thought I'd have things figured out by now..."

"Oh honey no," Lala-san chuckled, again waving a hand before her mouth. She stopped, leaning in ever so slightly. "Let me tell you a secret. There's no magic age where you have it all figured out—but that's for the best. If you knew everything that came at you, that would mean you've stopped growing, and  _that_  is never a good thing."

"Hmm..." What Lala-san was saying made sense, but Makoto still felt she was awfully behind.

"So what's bothering you?"

Lala-san's change of subject was welcome. It would take some time for Makoto to finish mulling over her earlier words. "You know... the usual. It's like everything I do is wrong lately. Kirijo-san must be asking Ren for a replacement by now."

"Must be?"

"I mean..." Makoto looked away. "With how poorly I've been doing."

"Has she said anything?" Lala-san's voice was even.

"Yes... she's constantly correcting me and-"

"But has she said anything about dismissing you?" Lala-san's tone shifted, becoming firm.

"Well no, but-"

"Then maybe it's best not to assume." A small smile formed on Lala-san's lips. "She sounds like a stern instructor, that's for sure... but until she questions your right to be there, don't do it for her. You've had stern teachers before, haven't you? Ren-chan spoke of one who throws chalk."

"Mr. Ushimaru can be dramatic but he's committed to teaching," Makoto explained. She had done quite well in his civics class. "Students often come to him outside of class. He's very generous with his time and he'd never give up on a student."

"I wonder if his struggling students saw him that way," Lala-san's smile broadened.

Makoto opened her mouth to speak but shut it. She closed her eyes and nodded. She smiled. "I suppose they didn't."

"Interesting, isn't it?" Lala-san's eyebrows rose as she turned away, heading towards the back room. They still had to close down the bar for the night.

Makoto removed her fist from her chest, staring at it as it hovered before her. She clenched it harder. If she could win over Mr. Ushimaru, she could win over Kirijo-san. Tomorrow, she'd try again.


	5. Let's Add Footwork

_I'm Ann._

Makoto repeated the phrase to herself as she walked a straight line through one of the more open areas of the training floor. She knew that Ann was a magazine model, not a runway model. She knew Ann's look was sunny, not sultry. However, it was the most accessible image she had. Ann would most certainly be able to pull this off.

"Yes, that's it. Eyes fixed ahead of you, like wherever you've chosen to head is where you're meant to be." Kirijo-san bore a satisfied smile when Makoto turned to see her. A treasure, even if it was becoming less rare. It was no reason to rest easy though.

"How's my alignment?" It made more sense to Makoto in car terms.

An airy chuckle escaped the other woman. "Much improved."

"What should I focus on next?" As the days passed, Makoto had shown marked improvement in everyday manners, persona summoning, and hand-to-hand combat. It still wasn't up to Kirijo-san's standards, but she felt they were in reach. Just a little more and she'd be there. 

"Slow down a hair," Kirijo-san's smile was replaced with sharp eyes and thin lips surveying her. "Find the resonant gait to achieve a bounce in your hair and skirt."

Makoto nodded. She was still rushing. She tried a few steps, more slowly this time. "Like this?"

"Closer, but you've overcorrected," the woman crossed her hands over her chest.

Makoto was about to start again when Ren and Sanada-san returned. Kirijo-san looked at the older man with raised eyebrows. He responded with a shallow nod.

"Let's break for today," Kirijo-san punctuated her direction with a small clap. She turned to Makoto. "Keep working on that at home. Don't forget your dance exercises either."

"Yes," Makoto nodded.

As well as she was performing in most tasks, dancing remained squarely in the deficiency category. It seemed like not even fifteen seconds would pass between Kirijo-san's corrections. Makoto was too stiff. Makoto wasn't following Ren's lead. Makoto was making an unpleasant face. Sometimes even Ren looked disappointed.

Of course, despite the expressions he made, Ren had offered even more of his free time for some extracurricular practice under Lala-san's tutelage. The pair of Phantom Thieves changed out of their formal wear and headed towards Shinjuku.

"How was it?" Makoto asked once they were safely away from the building.

"Dry." Ren and Sanada-san had been poring over information he needed for his false identity and enacting scenarios to make sure he wouldn't get tripped up in the role.

"Sanada-san must be going too easy on you," Makoto glanced at him and smiled.

"You must be underestimating me," Ren leaned towards her, grinning.

"You must be underestimating Sanada-san," she retorted. Ren pulled back, making an exaggerated pout. She laughed. "You don't rise through the ranks that fast without being sharp."

"I have a lot of experience dealing with the police," his face had mostly relaxed, but his cheeks still puffed a bit.

"Yeah..." Makoto looked towards the pavement, thinking back to the fallout from her sister's Palace and his incarceration only a month later. It had been too-

"What about you?" he was grinning again, flashing his teeth. "Kirijo seemed like she was in a good mood."

"Or at least... not a bad mood," she smiled to herself. "She doesn't say it, but I think I've crossed over into 'acceptable' when it comes to comportment."

It was a victory. She wouldn't expect more than that from Mr. Ushimaru after all.

"Except for dancing that is," Makoto added. "Thanks for doing this."

"It's my pleasure." There it was.  _That_  smile again. Makoto was sure whatever face she was making back looked dreadful.

It wasn't long before they arrived at Crossroads Bar. The stage there was not nearly as large as the dance floor in the Kirijo Group building, but it would have to do. Until the bar opened for business, they could practice.

Lala-san watched silently as the pair moved in time. Makoto tried her best to read Ren's movements while not leaning too much into the hand on her back or staring too much at him or making a weird face or-

"By the way, Futaba said she's found nothing new," Ren's voice cut through Makoto's ponderings. She looked up at him as he continued. "Have you heard from Haru?"

"Her luncheon went well... she had only positive things to say about Kirijo-san," she replied. "Apparently they have a lot in common. Anything from Mona?"

"No." Ren's forearm pressed lightly into Makoto's side. She turned with him in step. "Though he's beginning to worry she's onto him."

"She's good but... figuring out Mona?" Makoto rolled over the possibilities as the two traversed the bounds of the stage. "I suppose if that man's group knew, it could have gotten out."

"That's true, but Kirijo ignored Mona when we first met." Ren's lips formed a thin line.

The revelation wasn't encouraging, as slim as it was. Even though Kirijo-san made her uncomfortable, Makoto wanted to believe in this other persona team. Neither Kirijo-san nor Sanada-san spoke much about it, but what they did say was both internally consistent as well as consistent with what Futaba could dig up about their high school years. However...

"Then the plan remains the same," said Makoto.

"Agreed," said Ren.

"How are the card preparations going?" It was a simple plan: switch out the stray technology for a fake. Then, before the real one was discovered, find a way to destroy it. The effort would do little if the Kirijo Group really were the original developers, but if they weren't, it had to be kept out of their hands as well. 

"Slowly," Ren sighed. Makoto grimaced. Together, Futaba's technological prowess, Morgana's Metaverse knowledge, Yusuke's artistic talent, and Ren's crafting experience were formidable, but the Kirijo Group had a huge head start. They weren't even quite sure what they were aiming for. Ren squeezed Makoto's hand. She looked up to find him smiling. "That dormina card has been really helpful though. I think I know what we're going for."

"That's good." Makoto and Ren had managed to slip one out when Kirijo-san was teaching her how to use them. Well... it had mostly been Ren's deft fingers.

"Mona's been eyeing it often," Ren grinned. "I think he wants it for personal use."

Makoto smiled. She leaned a little closer, whispering so she was absolutely certain Lala-san couldn't hear. "A thief 'til the last, huh?"

"One with a healthy respect for bedtime." Ren leaned even closer. Makoto was suddenly very aware of his deep throaty sound. It fell somewhere between a hush and a whisper. With this awareness came a rush of blood to her face. She straightened herself and looked away, clenching her teeth together.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

She had gotten careless. Somewhere during their conversation she had forgotten they were dancing, not infiltrating a Palace.

"W-well, I'm sure you'll figure it out in time," Makoto stammered. She took a deep breath before facing Ren again. There was a small crease between his eyebrows and his lower lip didn't quite meet its pair. She summoned what she could of a professional expression. "Good work."

"Thanks." Ren's gazed shifted away for a moment before he settled into a neutral expression, mouth closed and half-lidded eyes. It was a face that had flummoxed her when they first met, but she had gotten used to it. It was hard to believe half of their high school had once thought this quiet, gentle man was some sort of violent killer. In fact, she had come to find his resting face quite attractiv-

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

Makoto refocused. Ren had given up his extra time to practice because  _she_  had failed to learn well enough. She pressed her lips together and forced herself to think about the rhythm, the steps, the positions of her hands.

"You're leading again," Ren whispered.

"O-oh." She must've gotten ahead of herself. She forced herself to slow down, to pay attention to Ren's hands. They were large and warm and nice to-

_No! Not like that!_

Makoto squeezed her eyes together. It was time to try again. She fell in with the beat once more. This wasn't something that she couldn't race through. Practice... like finding a rhythm to a kata. She imagined some sort of fancy venue, full of the kind of people who moved  _deliberately_. The idea was to practice dancing. It deserved more of her attention.

_Is he signaling? No. Continue._

The pattern to the steps seemed natural enough. They were once again making their way around the stage.

_Is he signaling? No. Continue._

The song Lala-san had chosen finished but then started again.

_Is he signaling? Maybe? No! Quick! Continue!_

Makoto was a tad late, but she pressed her lips together and forced herself to recover. Her foot came down harder than she intended, making an audible sound.

"Makoto..." Ren's voice seemed to have a slight edge to it. It might have been her imagination, but perhaps he was getting impatient. "What do I do that's different from Sanada?"

"Eh?" Makoto looked up at her partner.

Ren took a deep breath through his nose. "When he leads, what's different?"

"I don't think you're all that different," Makoto shifted her gaze, not really looking at anything. "It's me that-"

"You seem to do better when it's with him." It was a plain statement that seemed to hang in the air despite Makoto's quick response.

"It just seems that way because Kirijo-san doesn't have as much time to correct me." When she practiced with Sanada-san, it meant Kirijo-san was dancing with Ren.

"You actually look like you're having a nice time when it's with him." Ren frowned.

"I really think it's just not having to worry about Kirijo-san." Makoto bunched the sides of her lips together, trying but failing to offer a smile.

"Then shouldn't it be different now?"

"It's not?" she asked. Ren had been keeping the pattern of their steps relatively simple with no large movements. Makoto thought she had been doing well at matching him. "I thought I understood what you-"

"You've always been good at keeping sync with me, sometimes to the point of taking the lead," Ren's chuckle sounded almost nervous. Feeling it through his chest, she realized how close they were and tried to pull back. The hand on her back resisted. "It's just-"

**Pi pi pi pi! Pi pi pi pi!**

They paused. It was his alarm, wasn't it? Makoto let the moments pass. Perhaps it had just been her imagination.

...but Ren would have asked her why she stopped if it was.

"You have to go now, don't you?" She tried to step back again. This time he relented.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah."

"Thank you for making some more practice time... though we didn't get far." Makoto dipped her head in a shallow bow.

Lala-san stepped forward, putting a hand on Makoto's shoulder while looking at Ren. "You've given us plenty to work with."

Ren nodded before picking up his bag and exiting the bar. He seemed to be in a rush. When the door slammed shut, Makoto turned to Lala-san. "I feel bad taking so much of Ren's time. If only I could get this right..."

"Hmm," Lala-san took her hand off of Makoto's shoulder and brought it to her own chin. "What do you think about while you're dancing?"

"Well... I try to keep count with the music and watch my surroundings," said Makoto. "And of course if I feel a cue from my partner, I try to respond to that."

"Is that all?" Lala-san's tone seemed to suggest she already had an answer in mind.

"Um, well... I'm trying to keep my form and style too—not lean too heavily in any direction, not make any strange faces, keep my arms in proper-"

"Dancing with Ren-chan makes you nervous, doesn't it?" It was more a statement than a question. The sudden change of premise caught Makoto off guard.

"No! I mean, a little! I mean..." Makoto lowered her head, brought her hands together, and began worrying one thumb with the other. She forced out a more useful answer. "It's just... I haven't really done something like this before... so I don't know how to act... and Ren..."

"And Ren?" Lala-san raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes Ren is hard to predict," Makoto sighed, continuing to play with her fingers. "It's not his movements, but the other stuff... like some of the things he says..."

"Oh that," Lala-san laughed. She seemed to dismiss it with a small wave of her hand. "Charming, isn't he? It's made him quite popular with some of the regulars."

"Yeah... he can be that way with the customers at Leblanc too," said Makoto. She frowned and shook her head. "I just can't get used to it."

"Really?" Lala-san put a hand on her hip. "I would think a nice girl like you would have plenty of experience, from more than just Ren-chan."

"No. Not really." Makoto supposed it was a good thing. Ren was enough.

"Really? No boys teasing you for attention?"

"No. None at all," Makoto let her hands drop to her sides. It was kind of embarrassing really... not that she wanted those kind meaningless interactions. It would be bothersome. Why get one's hopes up when...

"Huh." Lala-san brought her hand to her chin again. "Are you more the type that gets asked out cold? Confessed to?"

Makoto shifted between her feet. Her high school experience had certainly not been like that. "Eiko says I probably intimidate boys."

Lala-san raised both eyebrows this time but said nothing.

"It's not that bad anymore though!" Makoto raised both her hands before her chest, fingers spread. "I've been on a few group dates since starting university and followed up on a few with coffee or lunch... the upperclassmen seem more mature."

Lala-san continued to watch her and wait. Makoto only waved her arms more furiously. Her face was starting to feel distressingly warm.

"Oh and I know Ren doesn't mean anything by it. He really does care. He wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. It's just..." Makoto paused. She let her gaze wander to the ceiling. "It's just..."

_It's just I wish he did mean something by it..._

Makoto lowered her head. "It's just I'm no good at playing along like most people..."

"Maybe you should stop worrying about how you're reacting to it and just enjoy it," Lala-san smiled.

Makoto's brow furrowed. "Just enjoy it?"

"That's what everyone else is doing. It'll come natural," the older woman replied. Though the bar was empty, she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "Whether or not you act on it, it's okay to just enjoy it."

Makoto looked back at the woman with wide eyes. Did she know about Hifumi-san?

"Anyway," Lala-san stood up straight once more. "We better prepare to open. If you want more advice, or even  _practice_ , talk to Maria. I'm sure she'll be by tonight."

"Right," Makoto nodded. "Thank you Lala-san."

"Of course."

The evening seemed to fly by faster than the previous nights. Part of it was likely just getting used to wearing heels, but the more Makoto turned over Lala-san's words, the more they seemed to make sense. Practicing with Maria, who made an impressive "charming gentleman" for a lady in a tight red cocktail dress, cemented the idea.

Makoto had always taken things too seriously. Perhaps she could just enjoy the time she had with Ren, even if it didn't mean anything, even if it was just for a job. She wondered what their next day of training would be like. Tomorrow's training session suddenly seemed a strangely long wait.

She began putting away the freshly washed glassware for the night, imagining dancing with Ren like she'd fantasized rather than always holding back.

Her reverie was interrupted when a familiar name on the radio caught her attention.

"Here we are live with the Venus of Shogi, Togo Hifumi-san, having just advanced to the semi-finals of the Hoshi Tournament," the reporter's voice was bright and chipper though it was late at night. "Congratulations Togo-san!"

"Thank you," Hifumi-san's voice was a pleasant soprano, fitting her image of classic beauty.

"And we heard you had someone special in the gallery tonight, is that so?"

Makoto stopped, arm still raised, fingers pushing a glass into place on the top shelf.

"As expected," Hifumi-san's voice sounded warm, like she must be smiling. "You're well informed."

Makoto released the glass and let her arm fall slowly back to her side.

Was this really going to be okay?

* * *

Sanada's fists were fast, relentless. Ren watched as they kept Makoto traveling around the ring, no openings to exploit. She moved lightly, almost as well as she did as Queen. The skirt of her gown, dark green today, never once fell under her feet. She was improving but somehow still barred from going on the attack. 

Ren smirked. It was as she had said. Sanada really knew how to test them. He looked like he was having fun doing it too.

They traversed the ring three times before Makoto made her move. She slid under one of Sanada's jabs, a maneuver Ren was surprised she could do in heels (and judging by her expression, so was she). Sanada's response was quick, but not quick enough. Had she lulled him into a pattern or was he feigning it?

No longer on defense only, Makoto started throwing punches, even kicks. The way the two were meeting each other's attacks, dodging, guarding, moving—it was clear they were both highly trained.

When Ren faced Sanada, or anyone for that matter, it was more by instinct and reflex. If anything, he used his lack of training to be more unpredictable. That wasn't to say he was either stagnant or a prodigy. He learned from his teammates, especially Morgana who had a wealth of advice and Makoto who was the most informed. Now he learned from Sanada too.

Watching the two of them though was like watching a work of art, a beautiful dance. Maybe that's why they danced so well together. Though, Makoto sometimes smiled when she danced with Sanada. When fighting, her expressions were much more intense.

It happened in an instant.

Sanada threw a punch. Makoto guarded where she should have dodged. She was lifted briefly into the air and while she landed in a roll, Sanada was quick, already on top of her by the time she tried to rise. He usually let her get to her feet. He must've wanted to end it.

Makoto pressed her lips together, almost to a pout. She turned her head to the side, away from Sanada. "Yield."

It was kind of cute the way she said it.

Ren shook his head.

_Stop thinking that._

Sanada stood up and offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. When she was standing again, he spoke. "Not bad. You're ready."

Makoto opened her eyes wide. "But I-"

"You lost... to me," Sanada grinned. "But you're ready to deal with  _them._  Wouldn't you agree Mitsuru?"

Sanada looked over to Kirijo. The woman closed her eyes, the corners of her lips turning upward. "I suppose it's satisfactory."

"See?" Sanada turned back to Makoto.

"Thank you very much!" Makoto nearly shouted as she bowed.

"That's enough for today," said Kirijo. She began walking towards the elevators. "See you tomorrow."

Makoto watched as the other woman disappeared behind the elevator doors. Then she turned back to Sanada. She raised her right fist. "Sanada-san! Fight me for real!"

Sanada folded his arms in front of him. He bore an amused smile. "Fight you for real?"

"Like if you were really in a pinch. I'll do the same." Makoto kicked off her heels and planted her feet firmly. She raised both her hands in preparation and nodded, looking up at him.

Sanada chuckled. He walked up next to Makoto, put his hand on her head, and ruffled her hair. "Mitsuru would murder me if I damaged your face right before the gala. Maybe some other time."

Makoto turned bright red as Sanada walked past her. He stepped between the ropes and out of the ring. She let her hands fall to her sides, but her fists were still shaking. Sanada waved, though neither of them turned back to face the other. "See you tomorrow."

Ren waited for Makoto as Sanada exited through the elevator doors like Kirijo had minutes prior. Their hosts had gotten comfortable leaving the floor to them. There were cameras everywhere, so it wasn't like it mattered. "Come on Makoto, let's get changed."

She slumped her shoulders and nodded. The two walked over to their respective changing rooms. Ren was getting quicker and undoing all the fasteners that came with a full tuxedo. He was much happier in well-worn jeans, a knit shirt, and a blazer.

Makoto was waiting for him when he was done. She was apparently even happier to be out of her gown and back in a turtleneck and pants, even if she had to keep the heels. Didn't her feet get cold?

The pair exited the Kirijo Group building, once again free to talk.

"You like Sanada a lot," Ren mused as they headed towards the station.

"Of course!"

She didn't have to state it so enthusiastically.

"He's really strong but not only that he has great technique. He's already rising through the ranks of the police force but he's taken these few weeks out to help a friend. He's really kind." She looked down and bit her lip as she smiled.

It was... different... to see Makoto gush so unrestrained about something, someone. It was cute, but at the same time, somehow frustrating.

Strong, muscular, older, a scar by his eyebrow that only made him seem tougher... Ren figured, no he had realized for some time now, this was the kind of guy Makoto liked.

It was probably for the best.

"Oh, but I'm still keeping my guard up!" Makoto looked over at him, waving her hands in front of her. She lowered her voice. "We don't know what they're up to."

"Yeah." Ren had been falling into the same trap of wanting to like Kirijo and Sanada. He reminded himself that it was Kirijo and her powerful conglomerate that had put them, everyone, in this dangerous situation. Where did Sanada fall in all of this?

They walked another block before Ren spoke again. He ran his fingers through the back of his hair by his neck. "If everything turns out okay... afterwards... you know, I don't think Sanada and Kirijo are necessarily a thing. You could try asking him out."

"Eh!?" Makoto stopped in place. When he turned back, she was waving her arms even faster. "N-no that's-"

"You should have more confidence in yourself," Ren did his best to make an encouraging smile.

"You're very kind." Makoto seemed like she was trying to smile in response, but she was clearly clenching her teeth and her eyebrows creased like they wanted to frown. Maybe he had hit a sore spot. She started walking again. A few steps later, she spoke. "The truth is... Sanada-san reminds me a little too much of my Dad. So... I can't really see him that way."

"Oh."

Their walk suddenly seemed much more relaxed and enjoyable. 

"I really am being careful though, extra careful, since I know I..." Makoto turned her gaze towards the ground. They took a few more steps before she looked up again. "I really hope they're not bad people."

"Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy [noctilin's](https://twitter.com/noctilin) [P3/P5 Family AU](https://twitter.com/i/moments/887820289278476288), so here's a little nod to that.
> 
> Like Makoto? Like creating fics, art, cosplay, HCs, edits, or something else? Consider participating in [Makoto Week 2019](https://twitter.com/makotoweek/)! Prompts have been announced and you can do as many or as few as you'd like.


	6. Let's Add A Gala

Ren rolled his shoulders and looked himself over in the full length mirror between the two changing rooms. The tuxedo was simple and classic—black slacks, jacket, and accents over a white shirt. He wasn't supposed to stand out. His hair was styled this time, parted on the side with the smaller bit gelled back.

He had to admit, as promised he didn't look much like "Boy A."

No, tonight he was Tougeika Isu, the spoiled third son of the president of a financial holdings company, recently back from studying abroad. He was rich enough to be invited but not so much for anyone to take particular interest in him. Kirijo had pulled a favor with a "minor player" and rumors about this third son's slacking in terms of his studies, as well as his planned attendance at the gala, had started circulating before Ren and Makoto had even heard of the event.

He wondered just how many other strings Kirijo had pulled. It was convenient she had come to him the night he returned to Tokyo, before he could make any other plans for the night or the few weeks prior. Perhaps that had been in her calculation as well. Whenever he thought he was getting comfortable with her, these sorts of doubts surfaced. 

The same could be said of Sanada. Was he playing good cop in more ways than one? The other man stood to his left, also wearing a tux. Though he and Kirijo were not attending the gala, they wanted to be prepared to slip in if need be. It was the first he had seen the man outside of a casual suit.

Ren stretched his shoulders again. He was used to the costume by now. Kirijo had settled upon a design for him fairly early. Makoto on the other hand... he awaited seeing what the final decision was.

He didn't have to wait much longer.

The door to the women's changing room creaked open. Kirijo stepped out first, wearing a single-shouldered gown with diagonal black and white sheaths of cloth that went from form-fitting and bold at the top to ethereal and light into the skirt. Walking with confidence, the fabric billowed behind her.

In comparison, Makoto seemed invisible behind Kirijo. Her dress was a dark purple with a neckline just above her bust, a thin ribbon tied at the waist, and then large pleats that stopped at her knees in the front, coming down about ten centimeters further in the back. It was a delicate balance to keep Makoto non-noticeable, not trackable through crowds, while also making her outfit believable as the date of a rich socialite.

That wasn't to say she wasn't beautiful. Over the weeks Ren had seen her in a variety of gowns. She always looked beautiful, but it was best not to think about it. Each time it got a little easier.

Makoto walked up beside him and gave a brief nod. With a small, innocent smile, she whispered. "I like your hair."

It suddenly got much harder.

Ren swallowed. His collar felt uncomfortably tight. He told himself it was must the makeup that made her face seem to glow. Yeah. The makeup.

Before he could say anything in return, Kirijo turned to them, her eyes sharp and unyielding. She spoke. "I don't think I need to repeat how important this mission is. We cannot let Syn-Orpheus fall into the wrong hands."

Both Ren and Makoto nodded.

Kirijo's expression softened. "Both of you have worked hard these past several weeks. You're ready. We wouldn't let you go if you weren't. Stick to the mission and keep safety as a priority. Akihiko and I will be off-shore if anything comes up. We are prepared to abort the mission if need be."

Both Ren and Makoto nodded again.

"We'll be off shortly through the main entrance. A car will be arriving for you through the garage. There will be two switches before you board the boat to the gala," Kirijo reminded them.

"You probably don't need to hear it again from me, but do prioritize your safety," Sanada spoke next. He shifted, his gaze falling more on Ren than Makoto. "Heroic stunts are even less likely to work in the real world. Other than that, have a good time out there and show those criminals that the best thieves work for the good guys."

With a grin, Sanada started walking towards the elevators. Kirijo didn't follow him, instead stepping closer to Makoto. She held a slim gift, no larger than a phone, wrapped in reflective red paper and fastened with a gold ribbon.

"This is for you," Kirijo held out the gift. Makoto looked on, wearing that open-eyed blank expression she did whenever she was surprised. The older woman pushed it forward further until Makoto took it. Kirijo smiled. "I really meant what I said about your hard work and preparation. I know I'm not always the easiest person to work for, but know that I admire your work ethic and how far you've come."

"Th-thanks," Makoto gripped the gift harder and kept her eyes wide.

"It's time," Sanada called over from the elevator. Kirijo nodded and made her way over. Ren and Makoto followed. The two couples boarded separate elevators.

When the doors closed, Makoto handed the gift to Ren. He felt a faint spark as their fingers grazed. If she felt it too, she didn't show it. Instead, she held a hand over her heart and bore a small smile.

There was something strange about the package. In his third eye, it glowed a faint blue. It didn't seem dangerous however.

"You're not going to open it?" Ren asked, holding it towards her so she could take it back.

"After the mission," said Makoto. She was rubbing her thumb against the side of her hand. Nerves.

He was curious but decided not to push it. He tucked the small package into an inner pocket of his jacket. It already held their supply of dormina cards and synthetic somas. Perhaps it was a private matter. They had enough on their minds.

* * *

Makoto watched the other guests waiting in line to enter the gala, trying to take cues from their behavior. She and Ren had been briefed multiple times, but so many questions sprung to mind now that she was actually there. She wanted to take in all the splendor of the resort, but was that something people did or were all of them used to this level of opulence? Would she look out of place if she was too interested in her surroundings?

From what she could gather without behaving out of turn, the sprawling beach estate was surrounded by gardens, swimming pools, tennis courts, and picnic areas. Swimming pools this close to the ocean seemed unnecessary but Makoto supposed someone staying there might be a competitive swimmer. She also supposed this was one of those questions that was better not to ask. They weren't even inside the door yet and her mind was already in overdrive.

The boat ride to the island had been simple enough. Ren's charms worked wonders on the people on their particular ferry and no one expected his date to say anything of interest anyway.

Kirijo-san had been kind in developing her fake identity.

First, Makoto was thankful her gown wasn't floor length. Though the event was formal, it seemed that several young women on the boat were showing leg. She supposed it was one of those rules the men in power didn't mind being broken.

Second, she was relieved she didn't have to play a bubbly sycophant. Instead, she was the daughter of the CEO of a lower tier company, a hopeful social climber. People expected her to try to act refined but miss the mark. It was perfect.

The line moved slowly but evenly. Security checks had been done prior to boarding the boat.

Before long they were inside the hotel. Makoto marveled at the decor as well as the sheer scale of it all. The ceilings were high and adorned with chandeliers, crystals hanging from each one. Finely carved and painted trim ran along the walls. Vases and hardwood end tables and plants without a single brown leaf lined the walk. The floors were a beautiful stone tile pattern with ornate rugs along the center.

As they approached the front, the delay was made clear. There was a man in a tuxedo individually announcing the arrival of each guest, like something out of a European monarchy drama.

> **Announcing Yureda Shin of Li-Wan Incorporated.** <

While there were two grand doors marking the entrance, Makoto couldn't see into the room until they were nearly at the front. The doors led into a small foyer and then a half flight of increasingly sprawling stairs down into the main hall. The elevation certainly made for an entrance.

The hall was even more vast than she expected. As Kirijo-san's architectural plans had shown, one wall had ceiling to floor windows looking out over the beach. Some slid open to a large balcony with even more guests. The opposite side was half lined with similar windows looking into gardens. The other half featured flat walls with entryways doors opening to other rooms. Whatever wall space remained was decorated with art—traditional paintings, decorative fans, and large scrolls with gorgeous calligraphy.

**> Announcing Chairman Hiroi Noritaka of the Hiroi Group.<**

The floor itself was a medium stain hardwood. There were a few long tables with hors d'oerves about midway down. The only other furniture were small standing-height tables where people could set their drinks. At the far end, the tables stopped and the dancing began. All the way on the opposite side was the band—strings, brass, winds, all of it.

**> Announcing Tougeika Isu of Tougeika Holdings Limited.<**

As they had practiced, Makoto placed her hand in the crook of Ren's arm. He looked down at her and smiled. It was really too handsome a smile. She swore, some things really didn't change from high school.

They descended the stairs. Most of the people milling about near the bottom paid them no notice. Only a few people watchers, perhaps those waiting for a particular dignitary, glanced their way.

Ren looked out over the room as well. His eyes were ever so slightly narrowed.

"What do you see?" whispered Makoto as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Two doors." Ren's response was suitably hushed.

"Two?" Makoto clamped down on her tone. They had hoped Ren's abilities would lead them towards the card immediately, thus giving them more time to do their own investigation. To minimize risk of getting caught, Kirijo-san's boat was approaching cautiously, meaning they would be out of contact range for some time. This delay had been deemed low risk as Ren and Makoto were supposed to be acting as normal party guests while sussing out which of the hotel backways would lead to the card. The boat would arrive before they could begin their true infiltration. As far as they knew, Kirijo-san was unaware of Ren's third eye and its ability to shorten their search.

**> Announcing Fujito Seira of the Momoyuki Agency.<**

"Yes." Ren sounded equally frustrated but restrained. He shifted his eyes to the side. "One right over there. The other by the dance floor. Let's watch the far one first."

Makoto nodded. "What else did you see?"

"All of the waiters are in on it." Ren motioned his head as they passed a man in a short white jacket and black pants holding a tray of champagne glasses.

"We expected that," said Makoto. The pair continued to walk deeper into the hall.

"We just didn't expect there would be so many," said Ren. "This is bad."

"Do you think they're onto us?" asked Makoto. "Or did we underestimate the value they'd put on the card?"

"Let's hope it's the latter," Ren released a small sigh.

The pair continued to walk towards the dance floor, leaving the door flanking the stairs for later. As they proceeded further down the hall, the announcements from the front gave way to the din of small talk and the encompassing volume of the band.

At the edge of the dance floor, they stopped. Makoto let her hand fall from Ren's arm. He turned to her, speaking through a smirk. "May I have this dance?"

Before she could answer, they were interrupted a tall older gentleman with wrinkles by his eyes and salt and pepper hair. "Ah! Tougeika-kun!"

Makoto turned, trying to match the man's face with the photos she had studied. There were plenty of stately-looking, trim older men on the guest list and people looked fairly different in person. Ren's lips were tight as he half-squinted at the man. It was only for a moment until his expression morphed to a charming grin. "Tomoeda-san?

"You remembered me!" The man smiled broadly and slapped Ren on the back. He then lowered his arm, waving his flattened hand parallel with the ground at waist level. "Why, I haven't seen you since you were  _this_  high."

"I'm more surprised you remembered me." Ren quipped, his eyes briefly darting to Makoto.

He  _had_  to get cocky, didn't he?

"I saw you come in!" The man's voice seemed to reverberate from somewhere deep in his chest. "I would have said hello sooner but was caught in an intense debate with old Uchida, you remember him don't you?"

Makoto recognized the man now. It wasn't too different than recalling the details of personas and shadows. This was Tomoeda Ginjiro-san, a colleague of Tougeika-san and president of another investment firm. Tomoeda-san went to school with Uchida Eito-san.

Ren kept up the small talk, not missing a beat as the man continued to drop names. Makoto looked on with amazement as Tomoeda-san recalled memories of a third son that did not exist until a few months ago.

"And who's this lovely lady?" The man nudged Ren with his elbow.

"This is Kumagai Hokuto-san," Ren motioned to Makoto. "Daughter of Kumagai Kenzou-san."

"Ah! The upstart in home appliances, eh?" Tomoeda-san clapped.

Makoto smiled politely and bowed shallowly. "We believe there's near limitless potential in the integration of classic products with state-of-the-art networking."

"Well. Isn't that something?" The older man chuckled softly. He reached out a hand to Makoto. "I'm more classic than state-of-the-art, but I'm still a heck of a dancer. Would you join me?"

Makoto started to move her hand, hesitating for an instant, but pushing forward. She was in no position to refuse. "I'd be delighted."

Ren put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in, close against her back, whispering into her ear. "He's harmless. Continue here. I'll check the other door."

Makoto gave the briefest of nods as she stepped towards Tomoeda-san. In a sense, this was a good thing. It would give Ren a chance to be more mobile, to sidle up closer to the potential buyers. She couldn't help but be a little disappointed however. They had practiced for this. She wanted just a moment to feel like they matched up to the glamour Kirijo-san and Sanada-san had first demonstrated, even if it wasn't exactly true. Lala-san had said to enjoy it after all.

"I'm going to catch up with Uchida-san," Ren waved. "Don't go overboard with her okay?"

"I'm still learning," Makoto forced a giggle. Maybe bubbly had its uses.

"Don't worry, I'll make her look fabulous," Tomoeda-san assured them.

"She always looks fabulous." Ren punctuated his compliment with raised eyebrows and a sly smile before turning and walking towards the other end of the hall.

_Enjoy it._

It did feel rather nice...

"That boy..." Tomoeda-san chuckled once again. "Reminds me of myself when I was his age. Though, I doubt he can dance like this."

Despite the older man's bravado, he was a conscientious partner. He didn't try anything too complicated and Makoto found it easy to follow his lead. He spent most of the time talking either about himself or sharing amusing anecdotes from "Isu-kun's" past. She was thankful for the latter as it allowed her to put more attention towards reconnaissance.

From her vantage point among the dancing couples, Makoto's observations were mostly limited to the door itself. It was nestled away near the corner, adjacent to the double doors that she recalled led to the kitchen. It was just far enough away from the opening leading to the ladies' restrooms that most would never give it a second glance. There were at least two waiters looking in its direction at any given time.

The door went mostly unused.

Makoto's other objective was gathering any information about the auction from the crowd. It was difficult. As she and Tomoeda-san traversed the floor, she got only snippets of conversation.

"Call my secretary, she'll set up something up."

"-really must see it... if you can get tickets that is."

"That's why they're no good after the 25th."

"You saw what?! Increase my bid to-"

"He'll be headed to Todai next week."

"Who's that dancing with Tomoeda-shachou? She's not at all like that woman he's been smitten over."

Makoto tried not to make a face. Some things indeed never changed from high school. Before she could dwell further, she noticed something off in her peripheral vision. She concentrated on shifting her gaze slowly. A waiter led two men in suits through the door. One of the men used a card swipe to access it. The security device blended well with the door, no telltale blinking lights.

It was hard to be sure, but Makoto recognized the man with the access card as Fukuizumi Takeo, the leader of the organization that had stolen Syn-Orpheus. He was probably guiding a bidder to view the card personally.

In the brief period the door was open, Makoto counted at least two more men in suits waiting on the other side. It matched the protocol they had been expecting, but given Ren's earlier remarks, there could be more guards than she could see.

"Kumagai-san?"

Makoto nearly ignored the call.

 _She_  was Kumagai-san.

Kumagai-san paid attention to her betters.

"O-oh. Y-yes? Tomoeda-san?"

"You must be getting tired." The man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I forget how hard it is to keep up with me."

"My apologies." Makoto tilted her head downward.

"No, no—I should have taken note sooner. It's the responsibility of a gentleman after all. Let's exit." Tomoeda-san led her to the edge of the dance floor. "Thank you very much for these dances milady."

"The pleasure was all mine," Makoto made a small bow.

"Will you be able to find Tougeika-kun?"

"Yes, I think I see him over there," Makoto pointed towards a crowd. It was in the general direction Ren went, so not entirely a lie. "Thank you again Tomoeda-san."

With a wave, Makoto turned towards the staircase at the other end of the hall and started walking. She glanced from waiter to waiter, never pausing long enough to be considered staring. There didn't appear to be any overt signaling going on. All of the bidders were likely known beforehand. With so many waiters present, the organization could converse with each individually. Makoto had been skeptical at first, but in the midst of such a large venue, the ability to hide in plain sight became clear.

It seemed that if she and Ren were going to learn the whereabouts of Syn-Orpheus, they would have to get in close.

**> Announcing Representative Matamoya Jin of the Central Prosperity Party.<**

As she wandered further in Ren's direction, the entrance announcements once again began to dominate the music, though the pace had slowed down from earlier in the evening. It seemed almost everyone had arrived.

The other door came into view. Similar to the one by the dance floor, it also had a card swipe lock and was sufficiently tucked away from the corridor to the restrooms. There was another door, further still, that led to the gallery where the public auction was taking place.

"How was your dance?" Ren's voice. She stifled a gasp. He had always been good at sneaking up on her. It was so very like him. He never tired of a bit of mischief with his third eye.

"Much more reasonable than I had expected, thankfully," she said before turning around to see him. She lowered her voice. "I think that's the one. I saw Fukuizumi enter with a guest... and with guards."

"Hmmm," Ren started walking to one of the tables on the side opposite the door, near the ocean-side windows and balcony. Makoto spotted his target, a rare empty table. Ren continued to speak. "I saw something similar, but with a deputy. I think there may be more going on here than we realize."

"Perhaps that's where the other...  _special_... items are." Kirijo-san had warned them that the card wouldn't be the only illegal item up for bid.

"But for a guy that high up to show his face? It can't be run-of-the-mill," said Ren. The pair came to a stop at the table. It didn't have a good view of either the ocean or the rest of the hall, probably why it was free. Conveniently, it meant neither the hall nor the balcony had a good view of them. "We should check it out."

"You're right there's probably something going on..." Makoto closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She knew Ren wasn't going to like the rest of her response. She certainly didn't. "But we're already at a disadvantage. We need to stick to what we came here for."

"Ma... Kumagai-san." It was an argument.

"We leave this for another time." Makoto remained firm. They'd have to trust that Futaba and Haru could eventually dig up what else was going on. "When we get back, we'll have the others look into it."

"I can do it now," Ren didn't back down. "At least see it. We have time."

"We have limited resources," said Makoto. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I've seen what happens to you when we run out."

**> Announcing Countess Katatsumuri Doremi.<**

"I know better now."

Makoto sighed. Why did he have to be like this? She closed her eyes. Their mission alone was enough, why did he have to-

"It's okay." Ren was standing a step closer to her when she opened her eyes. His hands hovered above her shoulders. "You're right. I'm sorry. Just... just... We'll figure something out."

Makoto felt the tension in her body dissipate, a small smile forming on her lips as she looked at Ren. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"We should figure out next moves," he said as he looked away.

"It'll be tough," Makoto kept her voice low. "There are at least two sets of eyes on that door from inside the hall. Anything out of the ordinary is likely to make them more suspicious."

They both understood the personal escorts by Fukuizumi and his inner circle made posing as a bidder not an option either.

"That leaves access corridors and air ducts," said Ren.

"Exactly," said Makoto. "Hopefully our intel is correct."

They had discussed this possibility several times when they were back in the Kirijo Group building and studied what architectural plans they had. Makoto could likely get to a ventilation shaft through the ladies' room. Ren's best bet would be to take a longer route through other employee-only areas first.

"I hate to say it but... we shouldn't do this independently," Makoto added. "We'll need all the  _support_  we can get."

Ren pressed his lips together. Makoto understood his frustration. It felt like every initiative they had was blocked. She wondered if Kirijo-san knew about the extra security, if she had planned for this to make sure they couldn't stray.

**> Announcing Umino Dan of the Juichi Group.<**

After a few moments, Ren relaxed his face. "Okay."

"We should divide our resources," said Makoto. Her dress had hidden pockets in the skirt. To avoid someone noticing how the pockets offset the fall of the gown or perhaps even brushing up against any items hidden therein, Ren had been holding their dormina cards and spirit restoratives. Unfortunately, this limited them to what he could fit in his pockets without ruining the lines of his tuxedo.

He removed all of the cards and approximately half of the restoratives from the inner pocket of his jacket and let his hand drop below the table. He passed them to Makoto. She slipped them into a hidden pocket.

"There's also this," Ren placed the gift from Kirijo-san on the table. With its glossy red paper and gold ribbon, it didn't seem out of place at the event.

"You keep it," Makoto shook her head. She had told him before. "I'll open it when we get back."

"I think she may have wanted you to open it now," said Ren. He glanced from side to side. "It feels...  _special_."

"Hmm..." Makoto pulled at the ribbon, leaving the slim package on the table where no one would be able to see its contents. She was met by a heavy-weight slip of stationary, monogrammed with Kirijo-san's initials. In a fine calligraphy, a note was written:

_"Thank you for all of your hard work. These represent the very first of our production run. I hope they serve you as well as the true version has always served me."_

Makoto lifted the note and the stack under it, finding cards. They were similar to the ones Ren had just passed her, but instead of dormina it was something else. She tried to decipher the image on the card. It seemed familiar. She closed her eyes, reaching out with her persona to understand what it was. The answer was fuzzy but...

"Marin... Karin?" A rush shot through Makoto as the top card vanished into a puff of pink. "That's strange, the other ones-"

Makoto froze as she felt an arm snake around her waist. She turned to Ren. He was looking at her, his half-lidded eyes revealing a slight glow of pink around his irises. He brought his free hand up to her cheek, his fingers lightly tracing her skin.

_It can't be..._

"Makoto..." his tone was thick and deep. Her eyes went wide.

_Not now._

**> Announcing the Venus of Shogi, Togo Hifumi.<**

_Oh no._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2019/05/28 - Thanks to Doq for pointing out a typo! Now fixed!  
> 2019/05/29 - Thanks to [Zinzanzelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinzanzelf/pseuds/Zinzanzelf) for pointing out several typos. Now fixed!


	7. Let's Add Marin Karin

Pressed up against him, his hand against the small of her back, Makoto's heart beat wildly while the rest of her froze. She stared into the pink-tinted eyes of Ren, his fingers running softly along her jaw.

It was something like out of a dream, something that should have been wonderful, but all she could think about was how much trouble she was in.

She had done this.

If only she had-

_No._

It wasn't the time to be thinking what if's. Hifumi-san was descending the stairs. She couldn't screw up Ren's relationship, not to mention the mission. She had to think.

...but it was very hard to think with the way Ren's gaze burned into her, his easy close-lipped smile aimed only at her, the way he was tucking her hair behind her ear, the-

_No._

_No. No. No. No._

_Think._

_Move._

Makoto took a step back but Ren's hand resisted. This was going to be difficult. She swept her eyes across the room, looking for inspiration.

Landing on a wall, she found it.

The decorative fans!

If she could just get them closer. "Ren, we should-"

"Makoto..." he only tightened his grip. She had forgotten just how strong he was. "I've been meaning to-"

"Wait!" It came out louder than she had planned. She whipped her head from side to side, sighing in relief when she found no one looking at the two of them. "It's... it's crowded in here. I want to go outside."

So much for the fan idea.

"Of course." There was that smile again. He tilt his head in various directions, as if trying to see her from all angles. Was this was it felt like to be adored? It  _was_  really nice. Makoto swallowed. He toyed with a lock of her hair. "Anything for you."

"R-right then," Makoto gathered up the cards and turned. This time Ren gave way to her motions and fell behind her as she walked towards the glass doors lining the wall. His hand found hers quickly. Rather than fight, she led him. All throughout he was... humming? He didn't seem to have a tune, just a happy meandering of notes.

Keeping an eye on the stairs, she saw Hifumi-san begin to turn her head in their direction. Makoto yanked on Ren's arm, dragging him down into a crouching position with her.

"What's wrong?" He reached his free hand over to her face. His thumb began to run light circles over her cheek.

"It's nothing," she divided her attention between him and Hifumi-san. It was much harder to keep track of the shogi player from their position by the floor. Makoto  _thought_  she recognized the right length of gown. She laughed nervously. "I almost tripped. I'm still getting used to these heels after all. I'm fine though. I caught myself with your help."

Hopefully that would pacify him.

Ren brought their joined hands to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of her hand. "I'll never let you go then."

Makoto stared at that hand, holding her breath. Her heart may have actually skipped a beat. She had thought it was just a saying. Her cheeks were becoming hot. If only...

_If only._

This was bad.

_Stupid Marin Karin. What was the point of that skill anyway?_

She turned her head, searching for Hifumi-san again. Finding her, or at least what she thought were Hifumi-san's legs, walking past them, Makoto started to rise. Ren followed. She looked through the crowd once more, zeroing in on Hifumi-san's signature hairpiece. The other woman was heading away from them. It seemed safe to move again. 

Makoto tugged Ren along behind her, not turning back to look at him. She knew she wasn't ready to see his face again. The image of him kneeling before her, kissing her hand, was already far too distracting. Her mind zipped back and forth between reliving it and trying to navigate her way outside.

The view of the ocean was beautiful even from inside. Several guests were milling near the windows. Being outside wouldn't give them much coverage, but presumably Hifumi-san would stay indoors for the time being.

One of the resort staff opened the door they approached.

The deck outside was sprawling, lit by a bright full moon. Several couples and other small groups of people were congregating by the railing, looking out at the sea. Others seemed to mill in their own pockets in the center, sometimes gravitating towards the doors but pulling back when they realized they would block the view of those inside. Undoubtedly some of those people by the windows were too important to cross.

Makoto led Ren to an end of the deck that wrapped around past the glass windows. While not completely secluded, there was enough greenery to mar the perfect view of the ocean. It was what she had been looking for, less desirable and out of the way.

_But still too risky to summon Anat..._

"You should have told me you wanted something more private," Ren said as he brought both his arms around her, his hands clasping together at the base of her back. He looked down at her with a relaxed close-lipped smile.

It was all too easy, the way he held her, the way he looked at her. It felt so natural.

Was it because he was so well practiced with other girls?

It didn't matter. She had to think of a way to leave him there while she retrieved one of those fans from the hall.

"Can you wait here?" Makoto started, trying to pull away. "I-"

"Are you nervous?" asked Ren. He smirked. Rather than release her, he leaned in closer. "Don't be."

Makoto felt her heart jump into her throat.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

She leaned back, taking a step for support but finding herself leaning into his hands. "It's not that, I just need to go to the-"

"Please don't go." Ren took a hand off her back and laced it with hers. The other ran upwards, helping her into a more stable position in a half twirl. It all happened so fast and so seamlessly—so easily had he pulled her into the flair that Joker moved with. She stared up at him in wonder before catching herself.

This was not good. She could no longer see the doors.

Ren was not stopped by her internal worries. He let go their entwined fingers, bringing his freed hand up to her face. He ran the joints of his fingers over one of her cheeks, so very softly, so very gently-

_No._

_This isn't him._

She put a hand on his wrist, halting his caress. "Ren..."

Ren tilted his head and frowned. "Do you not like that?"

"It's not that-" Makoto caught herself. She took a deep breath. "You're not yourself right now. Trust me."

Ren tilted his head further. He let his arm go slack.

"I'll fix it though." Makoto pressed her lips together with a pert nod. She released his arm. "Just wait right here, I'll-"

"Why does this seem like a goodbye?" Ren straightened. He continued to frown.

How could he tell? And... was he hurt?

_It's not him. It's the effect of that skill..._

_That stupid skill._

"Makoto," Ren started before she could gather her own words. "I need you to know. I-"

"Ren-"

"Wait. Let me say this-"

"Ren, I don't think-"

"I like you." His hand on her back tightened. Everything that wasn't him seemed to vanish. Somewhere, at the tips of her consciousness, Makoto knew she should be resisting this, stopping him, doing  _something_ , but that was all lost to the obliterating expanse that was those three words.

In their darkened hideaway, it was all the more easy to ignore the faint pink tint in his eyes. What did he mean? Did he mean it like that? Of course he did, he was charmed. But just how much did he mean it? 

The answer came rapid-fire.

"You're beautiful and smart and trustworthy and kind and sexy. Just watching you be you makes me happy... whether it's coming up with a new strategy or misunderstanding Ryuji's jokes, directing the team or discovering something new, studying in the attic or hiding from scary movies. I don't know what it is. You make me smile. I always feel better when you're at my side."

The words spilled out desperately. A plea. It seemed somehow cruel to even think of interrupting him.

"I could talk to you for hours. You always have such a refreshing perspective. When we explore new places together, the world seems so much more full of wonder."

She felt his hand trembling against her back. The intensity in his eyes was mesmerizing.

"Whenever we're together it's comfortable but exciting at the same time. I revel in your attention. Whenever I see you I can't help but do something, anything, for it. I still wear glasses because I heard you like smart guys. When you smile at me, it's like I'm flying. When you're distraught, I just want to hold you and make it all better. Please give me another-"

"Ah! Tougeika-kun!" Tomoeda-san's voice. Makoto turned, sliding along Ren's hand at her back, to see the older man approaching them. "So that's where the two of you ran off to!" 

She bit back a frown. _Why now?_

Not getting to hear the end of Ren's speech, let alone dissect it, drained the warmth from Makoto's face, leaving her hollow. Even if it wasn't real... perhaps  _because_  it wasn't real... it felt like she was losing something. 

Her partner-in-theft stepped forward so he was next to her, his arm still around her back with his hand now resting on her hip. It had to look improper. After all, it  _was_  improper.

She tried slipping into a less compromising position but Ren wasn't having it. His hand only more forcefully cupped her hip. This was bad.

"Tomoeda-san," Ren's grip tightened further and he drew her back half a step. Fortunately, Tomoeda-san didn't appear to notice. "I'm afraid Mako-"

"I'm afraid we're all danced out at the moment!" Makoto spit out at fast as she could, hoping Ren had not blown their cover. "We were just enjoying the fresh air."

"Oh no, not yet!" Tomoeda-san grinned. "The big band numbers are starting. It'll really get hopping now!"

"I'm sure." Ren seemed to be standing taller than normal and his eyes were narrowed. He made a tight-lipped smile that seemed anything but inviting. "Why don't you-"

"Maybe we'll catch up to you in a bit." Makoto couldn't say her smile was much better. She was trying to be friendly, but knew her forced smiles were usually unconvincing.

Tomoeda-san was undeterred. "No, no... you never know how long it will last."

He reached out a hand. She saw Ren raise his free one in response. For a second she thought he was going to hit the older man, but thankfully he just brought it around front of her, landing on her shoulder.

Makoto had read many a manga with a possessive love interest. She may have even imagined how exciting it would be, to have one of those carefully constructed desirable bachelors feel so strongly about her—but only as a fantasy. She knew in reality such a man would just get in her way. What she hadn't thought as much about was how anxiety-inducing and uncomfortable it would be in social situations.

"My it's cold," she offered, trying to smooth over the situation. The arm across her chest could just be for warmth, right? Surely that was believable. "Thank you, Tougei-"

A commotion at the doors thankfully provided a real distraction. People were crowding to get back inside.

"What's going on?" asked Makoto.

"I don't know," said Tomoeda-san, his head turning towards the doors.

Makoto could hear the same curious mumbling coming from the groups closest to them. She craned her neck to hear more.

"Why are they all going back?"

"Should we go back too?"

Makoto squinted, as if changing her vision would somehow make words easier to pick out.

"Are we supposed to join them?"

"I heard something about a dancing countess."

"Why would that be such a big deal?"

Tomoeda-san's attention was still directed at the doors. Ren continued to hold Makoto defensively. The groups nearest to them hesitated to flock while the mass of people trying to re-enter the hall continued to grow.

"Do either of you know anything about a dancing countess?" asked Makoto.

"The countess!" Tomoeda-san spun back to her. His eyes seemed to sparkle. "She's here tonight? Dancing?"

"I-I don't know," said Makoto, raising her hands as if to slow the man down. "It's just something I overheard."

"If it's true, I must go. We all must go," said Tomoeda-san. He began to shift his weight from foot to foot, like he was ready to bolt as soon as he was socially able.

"Eh?" Makoto questioned. Ren made no motions to go or even move for that matter.

"Dancing with her is... well, it's special. She's a very special lady," Tomoeda-san's eyebrows raised. He dipped his head slightly, inviting Makoto's response. She wasn't sure what to say. Not nearly two seconds passed before he spoke again. "I'm sorry I really must go. Please do consider following—fortune might shine on you."

It was impressive how fast the older man could move. Makoto supposed it made sense given how accomplished a dancer he was. He disappeared into the logjam at the doors.

The hype spread. People, entire groups, peeled off from where they were standing to follow the crowd. Soon Makoto and Ren were the only ones left out on the deck. Even the staff members at the door seemed to focus their attention inside.

A chance.

She had to take it, and quick.

Makoto turned to Ren just as he was turning towards her. His hand dropped from her hip and rose to match the other on her shoulder. That content smile returned. Why did he have to be so handsome? His deep, full-bodied voice did not help. "As I was saying before we were interrup-"

"Anat." She narrowed her eyes as she reached out to her other self, using every bit of force she could muster.

She didn't expect to be questioned.

**Isn't this what you wanted?**

Ren's hands lifted from her shoulders. He spun towards the doors first, darting his head in all directions, looking for an enemy. "Stay behind me."

_No. It isn't._

Makoto relaxed. Her eyes fell into a half-lidded place of rest, watching Ren's back.

_Not like this._

She breathed slowly.

_This isn't him._

This Ren was a fantasy. Fantasies don't work in reality.

A pale green orb of light grew from Ren's core. Swirls of white danced around it, illuminating translucent golden shards.

He had only been a manifestation, a distortion, an idle fancy filling something unmet in her. It wasn't even what she really wanted. Now she knew. It was time to leave that behind. They had a job to do.

She looked up across the deck. The people inside seemed not to have noticed. She then turned back to Ren, watching his back as the light faded, as if it were consumed by the full moon.

Makoto lowered her head, a whisper of a smile gracing her face.

_Goodbye... "Ren"..._

* * *

Ren cupped his hands, letting the cold water from the faucet pour into them before splashing his face again.

_Dammit._

There was one attendant at the door, passing out linens for those above grabbing one from the bin. He paid Ren no mind. If the ladies' room was the same way, a dormina card would do the trick.

_Dammit._

The men's room was as posh as the rest they'd seen of the resort—marble counter tops, plenty of fresh linens, brightly lit, actually clean.

_Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit._

Ren rubbed his face in his hands again. He knew he was only making it worse. In the mirror, he looked quite red. At least the styling the Kirijo Group did to his hair was still intact.

_Come on. Focus._

It was an impotent gesture. He kept circling back to everything he had done while under the influence of  _that card_. He had been charmed before, but only in battle. This was something else. He had basically spent the whole time  _molesting_  Makoto. She told him it wasn't his fault, several times in fact, as he attempted to put just how sorry he was into words. However, he couldn't shake the look she had on her face through the whole ordeal.

Horror.

Ren sighed. He wondered if he could possibly feel any lower.

No wait. He could.

Makoto had gotten back to business expediently, popping a restorative and going over their plan once again. He had been so...  _distracted_... with his memories of the half hour before that he just went along with it. His original plan had been to coax Makoto away from the idea of them splitting up, even if they only planned to part to get past that one door. It was too risky with the added security. He had hoped whatever Kirijo's gift was would help turn things around. Instead, it only cemented them.

How could he force Makoto to keep close to him after what he had just  _done?_

Especially after she had already-

_No. Focus._

Ren took one last splash of water, drying his face with linens this time. He looked in the mirror. It was the best he was going to be able to do. He took a deep breath. It was time to be Joker.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he was sporting a carefree grin. He sauntered over to the standing table where Makoto was waiting for him. She had also re-assumed her role, greeting him with a polite smile, but he could see the question in her eyes.

"Just one," he leaned over the table, whispering. "But he was standing. You'll have to be ready to-"

"Got it," she whispered back. "We better get started. We're already running-"

"Oh um..." A familiar voice. Ren turned to find Hifumi and Ashikaga. 

He should have realized there was a chance she'd be here.

She wore a plunging black number that extended to the floor, like it was poured onto her. High slits revealed her legs as she walked. Her hair was swept up into some sort of fancy bun, leaving only her usual red ornament hanging. Ashikaga, not one strand of his silky black hair out of place as usual, followed her in a classic tux, much like Ren's own.

He supposed he should count his lucky stars that outside of a shogi match, Hifumi was too reserved to have called his name. Ashikaga similarly.

"Hifumi-san! I didn't expect to see you here," Makoto motioned them towards the table. Her eyes passed to Ren briefly but he wasn't sure what she was signaling. "We're here um... on behalf of Haru.  _As friends_."

The way she emphasized it... was she worried they would be mistaken for something else? Was he really  _that_  bad now?

Ren tried to push the thought aside.

Makoto was nodding too quickly. Way too quickly. Was she really that nervous? Fortunately Hifumi didn't know her very well, certainly not well enough to know something was wrong.

"Ah," was Hifumi's only reply. She didn't approach the table.

It was a bit of good fortune. Now Ren could control the introductions.

"This is Niijima Makoto, a classmate of mine," Ren spoke as softly as he thought he could get away with. He then turned to Makoto while motioning to the slim man behind Hifumi. "And this is Ashikaga Yoitsu, Hifumi's fiancé."

Makoto's eyes widened just for a moment. She made a perfunctory bow, as did Ashikaga.

"A pleasure to meet you," Makoto raised her head. She turned to Hifumi. "I had not heard. Congratulations."

"Thank you." Hifumi gave a small nod and an equally small smile. "Um, sorry we can't join you. We didn't realize you'd be here. My agent set up several meetings..."

"Not at all," Makoto smiled in return. "Don't let us keep you."

"It was good seeing you again," Ashikaga was turned towards Ren.

"Likewise."

"I hope you'll be at the next match," the other man added.

"I plan to be." Ren thought back to the previous one. Ashikaga was mild-mannered... right up until one party seemed to be taking the advantage. Then, he turned into a cheering section more out of a football match than a shogi one. They received many stares the other night.

He supposed it couldn't be helped.

As the couple disappeared down the ballroom, Makoto seemed to deflate. She could be tightly wound at times, but he didn't think she'd be  _that_  anxious, especially since shy Hifumi was merely a hiccup.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah... nice work," she kept her eyes down, pointed squarely at the table. Her face was getting red. He hadn't meant to embarrass her further. She seemed to shrink into herself. Her voice seemed so small. "I didn't know you two broke up."

_What?_

Ren spoke his next words slowly, his eyes shifting left to right, hoping to make more sense of what was going on. "What do you mean?"

"Weren't you two..." Makoto pressed her lips together, still refusing to look up. "Dating?"

She thought they were dating? Why would she think that? Was she thinking about the whole time he was under the influence of that-

"Um!" she said hurriedly, like she expected to interrupt him. The rest came out softer, but rapid. "I didn't know if it was a secret so I didn't say anything and I didn't meant to invade your privacy I just sort of found out and-"

"We were never dating." He was far too confused to say it in anything but the most casual and neutral manner. It was all still very strange to him. Where did she get these ideas?

Makoto turned her head, looking at him through the corners of her eyes. "But you would sneak off to that church-"

"To practice shogi." How did she know about that? 

"That's ridiculous." He knew that tone. It was usually directed at Ryuji.

Normally he'd want to tease her, see how long he could hold her annoyance before making it clear he was just playing. However, this time he wasn't playing. Furthermore, he had already taken out a loan on his nerves once this evening. What gave her the authority to judge him? He snapped back. "More ridiculous than going to a church  _to make out?_ "

Makoto's face went from getting red to completely red pretty much instantaneously. "Oh... um... uh... WeBetterGetGoingI'llMeetYouInside."

With that she high-tailed it towards the ladies' room.

"Ma-" he sputtered. "Kuma-"

It was too late. He couldn't risk attracting attention.

She disappeared into the crowd, the skin between the criss-crosses of purple fabric on her back looking decidedly more pink.

_Dammit._

Just how far could he screw this up?

He took a deep breath. If he was to catch up, he had to move.

Makoto had a huge head start. Once she took care of the attendant in the ladies' room, she could slip into the ventilation and get behind the heavily guarded door pretty much directly. The mens' room was mirrored. The shaft there would take him to the other door, the one they had decided was outside the scope of their mission. It didn't sit well with him still, but Makoto was right. They were heavily outnumbered. They had to stick to their original goal, especially now that she was already on her way to the target.

He should have gone first.

Ren tried to appear casual as he strolled over to the courtyard. Without a view of the ocean, it was quiet. He shrugged off the jacket of his tuxedo, folding it into a square and stashing it under the leaves of some plant. In just the dress shirt, it was easier to pass as staff.

He used the courtyard to traverse the length of the hall unseen. When he re-entered the building, he was much closer to the kitchen. He waited for a pair of staff members to drift past him, following them through the double doors.

Grabbing the first empty tray he saw to complete his look, Ren maneuvered through the ballroom's kitchen. Things were busy enough that he went unnoticed. His eyes darted around the room. It would be impossible to slip into any of the accessible air ducts without causing a scene.

_Dammit._

He exited through a second set of doors, putting him in a back hallway, likely not accessible by guests. He saw maids exit one room with a hopper full of laundry. It was too dangerous to attempt anything in this space. He'd have to find a quiet area.

After wandering into several rooms, including a busy maintenance area and another room filled with workers in jumpsuits, Ren finally found something akin to a storage space. Shielded by spare tables and chairs, he dug out a path to a ventilation shaft and began crawling, replacing the grate behind him before he proceeded. Once he felt he was far enough in, he signaled on his communication link. The tech was good, but still too risky to use in close quarters.

"Joker," Kirijo's voice was muted by static and digital distortion. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes." It was best to keep things short. "And Queen?"

"We had her earlier, but she's gone out of range."

Ren felt his stomach drop. They should have never split up. He should have put his foot down. "Lead me to her."

"Of course. This may take a while. You've strayed quite a ways."

Ren grit his teeth.

It couldn't be helped.

Following Kirijo's directions was easy enough. The plans they had obtained previously were largely correct—with the exception of wherever Makoto was. They hadn't anticipated being out of Artemisia's range. He willed himself to crawl faster.

"Wait," He paused mid-movement at the sound of Kirijo's voice. "I'm sensing shadows nearby. Lots of them."

_The other door._

Ren went over his steps. Could he have veered that far?

"Can you get a visual?" Kirijo asked.

"There's a grate up ahead," Ren breathed.

It was cruel. He had been the one who wanted to investigate the other door. Now he had the chance, but it came at the cost of leaving Makoto on her own longer. Hopefully he could make this quick. 

Ren peered through the grate down into a large, dark room. He couldn't tell how big it was, but he could make out the flicker of movement. The world shifted as he sought the help of his third eye. He still couldn't make out just how big the room was, but he could make out what was moving.

Shadows.

So many shadows.

Kirijo had not been exaggerating.

Each seemed to be confined to a relatively small space. They were stacked atop each other and lined the walls. Instead of taking human forms like those he had encountered in the Metaverse, these were more like slimes with arms. No masks either. They moved like they were trying to dig their way out of their cages, claws ineffectually scraping at the air.

"I see them," he said. "They seem to be in individual containment units. They're stacked floor to ceiling."

There was a pause before Kirijo spoke again. "How many?"

"I can't tell. The lights are out."

There was an even longer pause. "Are you able to get pictures?"

"Only with my phone, but it's too dark." Ren sighed. This was taking too long.

"We're taking a detour," said Kirijo. "Enter the room. Determine if it is safe to turn on the lights. We need whatever intel you can gather."

"What about Queen?" He didn't try to hide the edge to his voice.

"This takes priority." Her tone was curt, not even a hint of being conciliatory.

"How?" It came out louder than intended.

"We need to know what they're doing—security, trade, research. If it's the latter, the outcome could be catastrophic."

_What? Are you the only one allowed to do research on shadows?_

Was this really necessary or was she just trying to use him for her own industrial espionage?

Makoto was waiting.

"Joker." The command was clear.

_Dammit._

It would be quicker to just take a few photos rather than to argue.

It wasn't like getting those pictures _wasn't_  important. He agreed with that. If only it could be done  _after_  stealing the card. However, he knew as well as Kirijo did that it was unclear if he'd have the opportunity later. He had the opportunity now.

Whatever he got, he didn't have to give to Kirijo either. The Phantom Thieves could analyze them later. Whether this was just to spy on her rivals for her or not, something had to be done.

"On it."

Ren carefully but quickly removed the grate and lowered himself into the room. He had to get this done fast. Using his third eye to navigate, he moved along the islands of workbenches in the room's center, making his way towards what looked like a door.

He peered out the door's square window. The hall was lit, but he didn't see anyone. It was strange not to have any guards, but they could be posted further out. He didn't see any security devices either. Turning on the lights seemed unlikely to trip anything. He flicked the switch.

The room stretched far, maybe as long as a ballroom. Maybe it was a former ballroom. If so, it had been stripped of wood or carpet, polished concrete remaining. What little he could see of the walls between all the shadow units was white. The counters running along the center had thick black tops.

Ren began taking pictures, first large area shots to get the lay of the room, then close ups of individual containers, anything that looked like technology to know about, and any written notes he could find. There were few of the latter, and nothing that indicated exactly what these shadows were for.

_Whatever they're doing, it's not good._

He glanced over at a keyboard and display. The real details were likely kept electronically. If only Futaba was with him.

There was enough unidentifiable equipment on the counters to suggest this was more than just a holding area. It looked like Kirijo wasn't the only one researching shadows. Ailment cards, personas... what else might these groups come up with? How many of them were there? And what could be done to stop them all? If someone started using this technology on-

"Joker!" Kirijo came in over the commlink. "You've got incoming. Humans."

His eyes darted to the grate. "Time?"

"Not much."

Whoever they were, they were likely too close to risk hitting the lights. Ren ducked on the other side of one of the island workbenches. It wasn't long before he could hear a voice, a man's voice.

"-to clients. I'm  _very_  important in the organization though. I'm sure you've never seen anything like this before."

The door creaked open. Ren could hear the man's dress shoes clack against the concrete floor.

"Huh... that's strange..." the man mumbled. He paused for a second before speaking again, this time clearly. "And now my dear countess, let me present to you our supernatural trade. Most people are unaware of the presence of these creatures. Please don't be afraid though. They're kept safe."

A second set of footsteps. Not heels though... wooden sandals?

"Are you surprised?" the man asked, his pride apparent in his tone.

"Why yes." Ren's eyes shot open. He knew that voice. Lala. What was Lala doing here? "I was expecting jewels or art. Come now. These can't be real. What's the trick?"

"Oh it's no trick," said the man. Ren could already imagine his smug expression. "These are truly beings that come from a world different, but connected, to ours. I'm a bit of an expert."

Ren couldn't help but roll his eyes. Lala really was a pro when it came to suffering braggarts.

"Hmm," Lala's voice was playful. "It's not nice to play tricks on girls, even if you like them."

"Meet me after the party," there was a sultry timbre to the man's voice. "I can arrange a demonstration."

"I might take you up on that."

_Ew._

More footsteps and the sound of the door. Ren breathed a silent sigh of relief.

It was premature.

"Wait a sec," the man stopped before the door closed. There was a pause. "That grate. Something's not right. Stay back and-"

Ren sprung from his crouching position, extending an arm to help propel himself over the counter. He grabbed the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the whatever he was holding. It crunched against the concrete, lights blinking. Ren's other hand came over the man's mouth.

Lala looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I can explain," Ren said quickly. He held firm against the struggling man. "...but first, a little help?"

"Sure thing," said Lala. She tilted her head at the rest of the room. "But what are we going to do about all of them?

Ren followed her motion.

The seals on all of the cages had been broken.


	8. Let's Add Shadows

Ren tried to focus on his breathing as he ran. It was like being in a Palace, only there were no safe rooms, he was being chased by a horde of shadows rather than a few, and he was running toward unmapped territory. On second thought, maybe only the running and death parts were like a Palace.

How Lala was keeping up with him, he didn't know, but the moment he tried to slow down for her she'd just yell back. "Keep running!"

They had lost that guy she was with right when they realized the shadows were free. He was no doubt telling his superiors about them. Ren only hoped this drew their attention away from Makoto.

Kirijo had gone silent save for a few warnings of dead ends. She was likely trying to hide her presence from Lala and anyone else who might overhear.

As they passed yet another set of tennis courts, Ren faltered again.

"Not yet!" Lala called, the sleeves of her kimono flapping behind her.

They needed to lead the shadows further, away from all the people at that party, away from all the resort guests.

\---

_"I can take them!" he had said as he let go of the man. Some of the shadows were just starting to stretch their arms out of their cages, feeling out the edges of the stacks around them. "Get out of here! Both of you!"_

_The man wasted no time in stumbling out of the room and down the hall._

_"Whatever you plan to do, I sure hope it's safe to do around this many people," Lala stared into him._

Dammit.

_It wasn't. He couldn't take out this whole room and who knew what trying would do to the building. It was too risky._

_"Run!" he put his hand on Lala's back, pushing her out the door._

_They needed to put space between the resort and the shadows. Fortunately it was night—late enough that few people were outdoors. They just needed to get far enough away._

_He was a persona-user. The shadows would go after him._

_"As soon as we can, split up!" He called back to Lala as the two ran down the hallway._

_"Like hell!" she called back. "Who knows what those guys would do to me now. I'm sticking with you!"_

_"Lala-"_

_"Don't argue with me! Run!"_

\---

There were no signs of Fukuizumi's faction yet. Ren wondered if they were securing their other valuables—that card included—or if they were just unable to subjugate a swarm of shadows that large. It was one thing to capture them one by one. It was another thing to face them en masse.

Ren looked back. Lala was still right on his heels. The shadows were trailing. Thankfully, lumps of darkness, who seemed to claw forward with their weird angular arms, didn't move as fast as the human-form ones he had encountered in the Metaverse.

They passed multiple tennis courts, gardens, pools, shuffleboard courts, a croquet field, and even a bit of a golf course. It had been a while since Ren had seen any people. He needed to find somewhere to hide Lala so he could fight.

Reaching the end of what he assumed was another picnic spot, they arrived at a long set of concrete stairs, a short trail to a small man-made waterfall if the signs were to be believed. The plant life was thick around the path, with tall trees and plenty of brush.

Finally, some cover.

Even if he put more distance between him and the shadows, in the absence of other targets, they would likely follow. That would give him some time to prepare. He called back to Lala. "Ready for a sprint?"

They raced up the stairs. He noted a few offshoots on the way up, probably to other scenic views.

There was a patio around the falls with a few sizable decorative stones and plenty of large-leafed tropical plans and trees. They weren't exactly cornered though—they could go off-trail if need be. He wondered how fast those shadows could move through terrain.

Ren ducked behind one of the stones. With one hand he undid his bow tie. He took heavy breaths. His thighs burned. It was so much easier in a Palace.

He was just starting to get worried when Lala joined him. She groaned as she sat down. Sweat was dripping down her temple.

"Sorry about that," his apology came out as an unintentional whisper as he fought to normalize his breathing.

"At least it slowed them down too." It was the same for Lala, though she managed a grin.

Ren peered over the stone. The shadows had yet to catch up. Their movements were haphazard. Hopefully they weren't out of range. His third eye had revealed their varied strength back at the resort. They also moved at different speeds, but it seemed unrelated. Likely they could sense his presence, but it would take them time to truly zero in. He could probably take them in waves while Lala hid. The woman's breaths were still ragged like his.

"Just what's going on?" she asked, her tone stern despite the exhaustion. "And where is Makoto?"

Ren sighed. He considered a few excuses, but none of them sounded believable and he wasn't sure he could keep the charade up in front of Lala very long. There really was no getting around this.

"Remember that business with Shido?" Ren watched as Lala nodded. "Those things back there are related to the power he was trying to harness."

"So you're supposed to stop all of those? By yourself?" Lala's skepticism came through in her voice.

"No. Those were a surprise," said Ren. "Makoto and I were sent here to retrieve a stolen weapon."

"And where is she?"

"We had to split up. She's likely already there. We were supposed to meet-"

"You left her? Alone?" Lala's head was tilted down but her eyes look up at him. She was not amused.

"It... it's complicated," Ren pressed his lips together. It wasn't like he was happy about it either.

"You chickened out, didn't you?" Lala's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Something happened and you chickened out." She stated it like it was a matter of fact.

"I don't know what you're talking about." It wasn't a lie. There were like... at least ten things Lala could be talking about.

"I just didn't think you'd go so far as to let your lady love face those things alone." Lala folded her arms.

"She's not. She's sneaking in and stealing a weapon," Ren huffed. "And don't call her that."

"And why not?" Lala turned to face him straight on. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

"No."

"Liar."

Ren swore Kirijo snorted the daintiest snort he ever heard over the commlink. He tried not to think about it. Instead, he leaned around the rock, checking for shadows again, buying himself some time to think. If they could move a little faster, it'd be nice. Anything would be better than this line of conversation.

That fact that he still... had feelings... for Makoto... was it really that obvious? Being charmed was one thing, but if everyone could tell... if she could tell...

"Look, maybe at some point..." No. There was no point in going into this. "Whatever you want to call it, that's done. Behind me. It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?" He could almost hear Lala's amused smile.

What now?

Ren kept his gaze fixed down the empty stairs. He pursed his lips together.

_Yeah. It doesn't matter._

Ren took a deep breath and returned to his fully seated position, his back leaning against the large rock. He ran a hand through his styled coif as he looked up at the stars. "She rejected me."

He let the words sit.

"I have to respect that."

Back then, they had to keep going as close friends, team leaders, confidants. The Phantom Thieves needed both of them. Now... this time he probably should have kept his distance. It was disingenuous... wrong... of him to enjoy her company the way he had been. He did want to at least be friends, but maybe that wasn't possible.

His ruminations were cut short with an annoyed response from Lala. "Oh please, she didn't reject you."

Ren's head whipped to faced Lala's. He pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed. Why couldn't she just leave this alone? "I know what happened."

"I do too. I was there." The skin between her brows crinkled. "You didn't have the guts to say what you wanted to clearly. She said she'd fail a test at love. You suggested becoming study partners. That's. It. How's someone who would fail a test at love supposed to understand that? Whatever you meant flew right over her head."

"You... you don't know that." Ren wasn't sure why he was so agitated. Maybe it was Lala's chastising tone.

"Yes I do. I asked her myself. She said she'd never been to confessed to."

"S-she did?" Ren swallowed, opening his eyes wide. "When was this?"

"Recently. While she was working for me."

Ren didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think.

_Do I still have a chance?_

"Even I wasn't sure what you meant until I saw your dejected face. I thought you'd bounce back. If you weren't such a coward, you wouldn't have jumped to that conclusion in the first place. " Lala really knew how to kick a man when he was down. "And you wouldn't have left her."

"Makoto will be okay," he said. The statement was more for his benefit than for Lala's.

* * *

Makoto read the output of the spliced-in meter, decoding the next set of instructions. The tiny device didn't have much room for a display, requiring her to take things slowly. She triple-checked her math mentally before inputting the next code. So far, so good.

It had been a short crawl from the ladies' room to a safe enough area behind the guarded door. From there, dealing with the security cameras and sneaking past the rest of the guards had been easy, what with her Phantom Thief experience... up until the room with the card.

A pair of guards had been stationed there. They were resolute enough that her dormina cards had no effect. Even worse, her commlink seemed to have stopped working at some point, but she wasn't sure where. It seemed a shame to go back when she was so close. In fact, going back would be just as risky.

Makoto had hoped Ren would catch up to her and they could devise a new plan together, but while she was waiting, something strange happened. A flurry of activity involving multiple guards arriving, checking the room itself, and then taking the other guards with them when they left. The opportunity was too good not to take. She had been in the room ever since.

She knew she probably shouldn't have started first, much less run off the way she had, but even thinking about her last conversation with Ren made her feel so low and stupid. Makoto pushed the thought aside again.

The card floated in a cylindrical glass container, sealed on both ends by an elaborate setup of metal and tubing. The glass itself had current running through it. She wasn't sure how much was necessary to preserve the card and how much was just for show to entice bidders.

She reached what she expected to be the final step in the security bypass. One by one, she went over every other possibility, recalling what she had done to either verify it wasn't a threat or disarm it. Everything seemed accounted for. Checking again would only make the time risk that much worse. She had to do it now.

_If only Ren was here..._ His third eye gave him an amazing intuition for finding traps the rest of them would overlook.

Makoto held her breath as she input the last code. She only released it when the glass retracted into the metal base with nothing but a faint whirring of a motor. When it stopped, she reached out and took the card.

There was no time wasted slipping the card into one of the hidden pockets in the skirt of her dress. She zipped it shut, happy to no longer be holding it. The last thing she needed was another Marin Karin incident.

_Ren..._

If he wasn't dating Hifumi-san, then who was he dating?

What if he wasn't dating at all?

Would he even consider her now?

No.

_Now isn't the time._

She hadn't heard any footsteps. Had the guards not returned to their posts? She pressed her ear to the door.

Nothing.

These guards were the elite however. Dormina cards had no effect on them. She never once saw them chatting with each other. It was possible that they had returned without her noticing. She had been focused on breaking the card's security after all.

Her only other option was to wait for Ren. After not finding her and determining that dormina didn't work on the guards, he would come to the conclusion she had gone ahead without him and know she needed help getting out. His only option would be to cause a distraction. It wouldn't be ideal but it would be fine since she already had the card.

By that logic, she could also surprise the guards—since they were going to be alerted that something was amiss anyway. The Fukuizumi faction was going to realize the card was gone pretty quickly, but it would be much cleaner (and easier) if they never caught sight of her. On the other hand, inside the room she was vulnerable. If she made the first move, at least it would be on her own terms.

Makoto looked over the room. She located a good position for an ambush, one she could get to quickly. She practiced her motion a few times, sliding from the door into her chosen cover until she was satisfied with her speed. She was ready.

She knocked on the door and then dove to her hiding place.

Nothing.

She tried again, knocking harder.

Still nothing.

The third time, she knocked as hard as she could without hurting her hand. Instead of hiding, she put her ear to the door.

Nothing.

They were either very, very good or there was no one there.

It was time to find out.

Makoto flung open the door, ready to take on the two guards. However, there were no guards behind the door. Instead, the whole hallway was teeming with black ghosts... dark masses with red eyes and gaping mouths, arms coming out of the ground as if they could just push their hands against the floor and climb out, revealing their full height.

_Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream. Where's my sister?! Don't Scream._

She ducked back into the room, already breathing heavily.

_Ren... where are you!?_

She forced herself to take deeper, slower breaths.

_Think Makoto. Those must be shadows. Not ghosts, shadows. Kirijo-san warned Fukuizumi would use them._

Makoto leaned around the door frame, just for a moment.

_But why do they look like that??_

_Think._

_Calm._

_Think._

In a Palace and even in Mementos, the shadows had cognition affecting their form. Furthermore, that was closer to their world. Perhaps those half-exposed creatures were all they could manage in the real world.

With so many of them, it couldn't just be the island's natural proclivity, it had to be part of the security system. Had she been caught? Had Ren? No... Ren would never...

Whatever it was, she had to get out of there. She could dodge shadows in a Palace. She would have to dodge them here.

Slipping out of her heels, Makoto crept out of the room and kept close to the walls. The shadows moved haphazardly, their arms stretched before them as if they were bindly searching. They were too dense in the corridor she had come from. She'd have to find another way. The complex was large, surely it would have multiple entry points.

Her planning was cut short when she noticed a shadow headed in her direction. It was still only ambling, but it stayed true to its path.

_The card!_

Shadows were naturally drawn to personas and persona users. She had been keeping enough distance so they wouldn't take notice of her, but she failed to account for the extra attraction of the card.

Pushing enough off the wall to move unobstructed, Makoto broke into a dash. She needed to lose this shadow and avoid alerting the others. She split her attention between the open hallway in front of her and the shadow behind her.

When she saw the shadow break off, resume its more random pattern of movement, she slowed down, catching her breath.

Then the alarm sounded.

The hallways were alit in red flashing lights. Horns blared.

And the shadows... the shadows started to move.

Makoto ran. This time it wasn't just one shadow behind her, it was all that could fit in the halls, too many to be dealt with alone. Agitated, they moved at much greater speed. She was the only target after all, a target holding a very powerful card.

She raced, taking whatever forks allowed her to move faster on her feet. The sirens continued.

She pivoted, avoiding a few dead ends so she could keep going. The sirens continued.

She parried, shutting whatever fire doors she passed behind her. They didn't hold the shadows for long. The sirens continued.

She could feel her lungs burning, the call of fatigue telling her to give up. She shut her eyes tight and willed herself to keep moving... until she reached a dead end.

Makoto looked back down the hall. She could barely see the intersection where she made the wrong choice. Between her and it were a mass of angry shadows.

She took a deep breath and looked to each of the doors lining the hallway. Could she even get one open before the shadows reached her? If so, wouldn't it just lead to another dead end?

The shadows were nearly upon her as it was.

She needed to get back to that intersection.

"Anat..."

No. It wouldn't be enough.

Makoto reached into the folds of her skirt and unzipped one of the pockets.

_Let's hope this works._

"Marin Karin."

The eyes of the shadow nearest to her gained a pinkish tint. It turned to face its brethren and started to attack.

The others swarmed it.

Makoto wasn't done.

She raced towards the mob, planning a route of shadows.

"Marin Karin!"

Another turned on the others, distracting them as she found small patches of floor to land her feet as she ran.

"Martin Karin! Marin Karin! Marin Karin!"

The last of her cards evaporated as she reached the intersection. She looked back at the hallway full of shadows fighting each other. It might keep them busy long enough for her to escape. Either way it would certainly thin the herd. Looks like those infernal cards had a use after all.

_Thanks Kirijo-san._

Makoto proceeded down the untaken path. She needed to put distance between herself and the remaining shadows, but she also needed to conserve her strength. She slipped a restorative into her mouth, the familiar sweet taste soothed her the moment it hit her tongue. The sirens continued, urging her to move briskly. Still, it was a welcome respite compared to her earlier chase.

A few more turns and Makoto found a set of stairs. She climbed, finding one last hallway.

"Queen. Can you hear me?"

Makoto jumped, inhaling sharply.

Her commlink.

Kirijo-san was just discernible over the static in Makoto's ear piece.

It was good not to be alone anymore.

"I can, but you're faint." Makoto managed to keep her voice low as a precaution. "Where's Joker? Is he still down there?"

"No. It's complicated. He's safe for now. Welcome back. What's your status?"

Makoto closed her eyes and let out a breath. Ren was... well something was up, but it wasn't the worst. She gave her report. "I have it. The alarms are on and the area is infested with shadows. I'm about 20 meters from an exit."

Makoto braced for Kirijo-san's admonishment. It didn't come. Instead, the older woman had a question. "Did you notice tripping an alarm?"

"No."

"It may not have been you then," Kirijo-san explained. Just what was going on? "That door should lead you to one of the swimming pools. I detect no nearby shadows, but there are a few people present. Try to blend in and make your way towards the docks."

"Got it." Makoto neglected to tell the other woman what happened to her heels. At least it wasn't unbelievable she wouldn't be wearing them by the pool. She walked slowly towards the door, trying to assume a more casual party-guest countenance than the adrenaline rush that had been the last hour.

She opened the door only as much as she needed to and closed it softly behind her. The concrete was smooth, but still rougher against her feet than the tile indoors. The patio was lit with recessed lighting in the landscaped areas surrounding it and by the lights in the pool itself. Streams of white undulated with the surface of the water.

There were a few couples sitting on lounge chairs, enjoying fancy drinks.

Makoto took several steps forward. No one seemed to notice her. So far, so good...

"Looks like those shadows flushed us out a little thief."

Makoto spun around. Fukuizumi Takeo stood several meters behind her, flanked by two other tuxedo-clad men. Two very large tuxedo-clad men. He must have been waiting. Makoto took a step back.

Fukuizumi took a step forward. "Give me the card."

"Card? I'm sorry. I haven't been exchanging business cards." Makoto held her arms out, extending her fingers. "As you can see, I'm not carrying anything."

"A trick," Fukuizumi's eyes swung from left to right. "Gentlemen."

The two men rushed at Makoto. They were slower than Sanada-san, but there were two of them. She backed up to give herself more distance. The first one reached to grab her. She wrapped her arms around his outstretched one as she side-stepped and sent him careening into the pool. The water splashed against her back. She could hear the murmurs of the other guests. So much for her fake identity.

Seeing what had happened to his compatriot, the second man withdrew his arm, settling into a fighting stance. She did the same. They danced around each other. He was on the offensive, trying to land a strike. Makoto used the time to get herself further from the pools edge. It wouldn't be long before the first one pulled himself out of the water.

When he did, Makoto was ready. The second man tried to go in for an uppercut. She stepped around it and twirled behind him, unleashing three punches followed by a kick that sent him into his friend. They collided, falling into the water once again. It was time to break for the docks.

There were screams from the other guests, followed by the sounds of feet hitting the ground.

Why were they choosing to flee now?

Makoto turned, finding herself face to face with Fukuizumi, a gun pointed at her stomach.

He fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2019/6/13 - Thank you Strawberry Rat for pointing out several typos. Now fixed!


	9. Let's Add Personas

The sky filled with cyan.

It persisted.

One second.

Lala turned towards its source down the hill, partially blocking the light with her hand.

Two seconds.

The leaves of every tree and bush by the waterfall, along with Lala's hair and sleeve, wavered in the wind.

Three seconds.

The sky-encompassing light faded, but a plume of color still stretched high into the sky.

Four seconds.

The whines and roars and clattering of metal scraping against itself and glass shattering and water crashing and structures crumbling reached them.

Ren was on his feet and starting to move before he caught himself. He looked back at Lala and then over to the stairs. He pressed his lips together, his brow furrowing.

"What are you waiting for?!" Lala yelled. Ren turned to her. "GO!"

"The shadows are almost here." Ren shook his head. There was a crease between his brows and his lips were downturn. His fists shook at his sides. "We can't let them circle back to the civilians."

Lala shook her head with a wistful smile and a whisper of a laugh. They were all like this, weren't they?

"I'll take care of it," her volume was lower but her words were more firm. "Go."

"What? Lala you can't-"

"Oh please," Lala rolled her eyes. She looked back at him, grinning. "Don't tell me you think that Kirijo  _girl_  and her friends were the first people to discover the power of persona."

Ren's eyes opened wide for a moment before narrowing again. He squinted at her for a few moments, his face revealing his skepticism. Then his eyes went wide once more.

"Happy?" Lala raised her eyebrows. "Now. Go."

Ren nodded and started running, practically throwing himself down the hill through the unmanicured foliage, vanishing from her sight.

Lala placed one hand on the stone and the other on the ground to help herself up. She was in better shape than most thought but her eyes were getting too old be running through the trees like that—better not to slow the boy down.

The hands of the first shadow fell at the top of the steps. Lala smiled to herself. Looks like she was right on time.

_You're still with me, right Brigid?_

**Always.**

"Malaquadyne."

* * *

Makoto fought to open her eyes. A whimper escaped her throat. She must have stayed up too late studying. It always seemed like a good idea but then her body seemed to  _know_  when there were no classes in the morning and crave extra sleep.

Hmm. Still dark... maybe she had an extra hour?

She turned her head right to check the time, only her clock wasn't there. As she pondered its disappearance, her vision adjusted. She was outside. Strange. Wherever she was, it seemed like a rather nice place.

A soft breeze. It was cold though, so cold.

Makoto shivered. She tried to lift her hand. It felt heavy. Her fingers grazed her clothing. Damp. Wet. She took a deep breath. Chlorine? Why would she bath in that? Had she learned to sweat chlorine? Maybe that was it.

It was almost as if she was forgetting something.

She turned her head to the left. There were plants. Pretty, pretty plants all in a row in their little mound of soil. Surrounding them was smooth concrete. Makoto ran her hand on the ground. That's where she was.

There seemed to be specs of light of different sizes twinkling dimly across the pavement. The only thing marring the view was a dark lump, perhaps the size of a persimmon. It seemed to be attached to the handle of a gun, trigger and all. That couldn't possibly work without a barrel. How curious.

"Queen! Are you there?" A voice. Static. Where was it coming from? That was for her, right? How was she supposed to reply? She thought very hard about how to make sound come out of her throat but nothing happened.

Before Makoto managed to respond she noticed it getting darker. She turned her head once more, expecting to find the moon but instead finding a man standing over her. One of his sleeves was in tatters. His forearm looked gnarled and bumpy. It hung limp. His other was hand planted firmly on that arm, just below his shoulder. The rest of his suit jacket was singed. The skin on one side of his face was similarly rough and angry.

His voice was low.

"Now... about that card."

* * *

Ren leapt down the hill. He knew his strides were a little too long, a little risky even for him, but he had no choice. He had to get to Makoto as fast as possible.

"Where is she?" he shouted into his communication link, not caring who heard.

"Last check-in was by the north pool deck." Had he time to think, Ren would've been annoyed by the almost clinical sound of Kirijo's voice. "You're headed in the correct direction."

"What happened?"

"She ran into Fukuizumi and an unknown number of guards after retrieving the card. There was an altercation. That's all we could detect."

Ren paused at his next foot fall. "Is she...?"

"She's alive but hasn't responded. It may be the effects of that skill."

Ren frowned, dashing down the hill once more. "Shadows?"

"None."

Something must have gone terribly wrong for Makoto to use her persona against humans.

"Her persona may have acted in self-defense," Kirijo spoke, like she was following his line of thought.

Whatever it was, it wasn't good. "What else can you tell me?"

"The main complex may be damaged. We're already seeing activity on the docks, possibly preparing for an evacuation of some of the party guests. We'll rendezvous with you elsewhere depending on the situation."

Finally at the base of the hill, Ren ran across the pavement. He strained his neck, hoping to see the area where Makoto was last heard. His view was blocked by tennis courts and landscaping.

"We do not know if damage reached the guest suites," Kirijo continued. "That would require a larger scale evacuation and bring in outside authorities."

Ren raced past the pavilions and courts and other facilities. The resort was too damn big.

Finally, the pool came into view. He searched, nearly tripping over something right in front of him as he kept his eyes planted much further ahead. Once his gaze landed in the right area, she wasn't hard to find.

Ren had thought he was running fast before. With the view before him he pushed even harder, forced himself to figure out how to move faster still.

She was on the ground, a man straddling her, grabbing at her. She was trying to push him away but there was clearly no power behind her arms. He merely swatted away her feeble attempts to defend herself. Two other men stood at the man's side, watching. They were probably his guards.

No cover for stealth. He would get to take them head on.

"Get away from her!"

Fukuizumi didn't even look up, but his guards were quick to respond.

Ren narrowed his eyes at the two men rushing towards him. They were in the way. He didn't have time for this.

"White Rider!"

Ren ran past the guards, knowing they were caught gazing into the hollow sockets of the skeleton and the myriad eyes of the white horse on which he sat. These guys weren't used to personas. They would be running in fear in no time. He preemptively popped a restorative into his mouth.

Fukuizumi was another story. He had built a career trading in the illegal and the dangerous. He was a man who used shadows as part of his security. The same thing wouldn't work, which meant-

Ren's fist connected with Fukuizumi's jaw, knocking the man off of Makoto. He followed up with a kick to the midsection, sending the assailant tumbling a few meters away.

"I  _said_  get off of her!"

Fukuizumi was coughing and writhing in pain, his hand hovering by his cheek. Something had felt off when Ren connected. He looked more carefully at the other man's skin.

_Burns._

Ren turned back to Makoto. She was laying on the ground, wet and shivering. Her usually fair skin was marred with red blotches and scrapes. Her dress was torn not only along seams but places where the damp fabric had just given way. What was that monster trying to do to her?

Without pausing to think, he was pulling off his shirt. A couple buttons fell to the ground rather than slip through their holes. Soon he was on his knees, sitting Makoto up as he wrapped the shirt around her. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" Her eyes were only half open. She wriggled in his grasp, stretching her back and neck, making little high pitched noises as she did.

_Cute._

_No._

_Now is not_   _the time for that._

_Don't think about it._

A big goofy smile came his way as she tilted her head to one side. "You're not wearing a shirt."

She reached out, running her fingers down his chest, curious and wide-eyed.

_She's spirit-shocked. Don't think about it._

Ren grabbed her fingers and guided them away. He pulled out his last restorative and fed it to her, trying not to think about her lips brushing his finger tips. "Please don't choke on this."

As he cradled Makoto, he began to see the effects manifest. She seemed more able to support herself, and just in time too. He noticed a distinct lack of coughing coming from behind him. He got up, standing between Makoto and Fukuizumi. His hands were balled into fists.

That's when he saw it. In Fukuizumi's good hand was the card.

"You're in no condition to face me," Ren tried to speak as evenly as possible but his voice wavered, belying his rage. He stretched out his hand. "Give it up."

The man's eyes narrowed. His gaze shifted to Makoto and then back to Ren, a scowl forming on his face. He moved his lips but Ren couldn't make out any words.

The card turned to dust in a flash of fire. Up from it shot the persona, twirling until it came to a stop, hovering above Fukuizumi. A mechanical puppet body of white and pale blue. A lyre of silver on its back. A red scarf. White hair over a dark face with glowing red eyes.

Syn-Orpheus.

It opened its mouth to scream, but no sound came forth. Around the persona formed flames which shot out at them. Ren dived for Makoto, pulling her out of its way just in time. The wall of heat hit him fully as the fireball passed. He tried to hide her behind him, his back to the persona. They wouldn't have time to dodge the next one.

However, it didn't come.

Ren turned his head towards Syn-Orpheus, finding it not directing its fire at him. Instead, it aimed wildly. Fire shot into the air, the ground. It wouldn't be long until it hit one of them or did significant damage to the buildings. People were still inside.

The persona rotated like on a turntable, screaming its silent scream and producing fire.

_It's out of control._

Fukuizumi tried to run. He was hobbling. His legs must have also been damaged in his fight with Makoto.

There was no time to worry about him though.

_We can't let it attack civilians._

"Sata-"

_No._

"Arsene!"

Blue flames erupted around him and from their smoke emerged his original persona.

It seemed only fitting.

Arsene launched himself at Syn-Orpheus, one knee raised as he flew. The other persona seemed to recognize its brethren, turning to face him while hurling fire his way. Arsene didn't dodge, letting the orange flames dissipate against his face as he flew through them. The broad smile of his cauldron-like head only seemed brighter.

As he neared, he reached out to grab the synthetic persona. Syn-Orpheus met him, and soon their hands were entwined. Each pushed against each other in the sky. Locked in position, it was a battle of wills.

Ren could feel Arsene strain against the rogue persona's power. Syn-Orpheus was also visibly struggling, its limbs and head flailing desperately. Arsene's wings spread full, his feathers stretching out behind him. Fire continued to shoot from the other persona, though thanks to Arsene, only into the air.

There was a strange feeling in Ren's chest, similar to when he would take new masks, like he was trying to absorb the persona but by force rather than through negotiation. At the same time, it felt almost like he was trying to crush it with his will. He focused on that feeling, trying to mentally complete the task. Time. Energy. Souls. All flowed through him and Arsene.

"Ren..."

Makoto's voice. So she was okay. He looked over, finding her standing next to him. He smiled before turning back to the persona battle going on above him.

"Your breathing... Be careful..." she took one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. He hadn't realized how labored his breaths were. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

Something else seemed to flow through him. It felt soothing, relaxing, but also scintillating and warm. He felt all the stronger for it... this small hand laced with his.

Syn-Orpheus started to give. Ren could feel it somewhere deep. Whatever resistance he and Arsene faced started to crumble, soon collapsing in on itself. Their foe turned fully black and scattered as dust.

Ren took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

_At last._

He felt as though he was falling through the air as the world faded from him.

* * *

"Ren!" Makoto grabbed hold as he tipped backwards, managing to stop him before he was halfway down. Above her Arsene faded away.

He was still breathing. Thanks goodness. He looked utterly exhausted, not stirring in the slightest when she wrapped her arms around him. His hair hung over his eyes.

How could someone so strong look so delicately pretty?

She resisted the urge to use the tips of her fingers to brush his hair out of the way. They had to get out of there. Makoto shifted one arm down under his knees, lifting from her own. She leaned back so his head would rest against her shoulder. He was lighter than she expected, but not insignificant. The horizon seemed to wobble as she righted herself again.

The restorative hadn't been enough. She only had hazy, disjointed flashes of what happened, but she surmised that she and Anat had done everything in their collective will to stop a bullet. Whatever it was, she was still feeling the effects of it. There was no time to recuperate however. Though she was already wobbly on her feet without Ren, she began walking towards the far end of the pool. She had to put distance between them and Fukuizumi's base.

The other man had disappeared during the fight.

"We've neutralized the persona," Makoto spoke, hoping Kirijo-san was still listening. The last message she had gotten was during the fight and there had been considerable background noise on the other woman's side. Kirijo-san might have abandoned them once she learned the card had been destroyed. Makoto had to hope that wasn't the case. "I'm heading east with Joker. He's unconscious."

Nothing.

Makoto frowned. They were most likely on their own.

She took a deep breath and kept going, moving as briskly as she could given she couldn't risk tripping and dropping Ren. Who knew what state he was in. Looking ahead, once she reached the end of the pool, they could slip behind the tennis courts. That would give them more cover and hopefully buy her some time to figure out what to do next. Hopefully Ren would wake up. Hopefully they could blend in with the guests to be rescued. Hopefully he was alright.

She looked down at Ren again. Still breathing. Still asleep. His bare skin felt clammy against her hand, but warm enough. That was a good sign.

_Wait._

Makoto forced herself to continue forward despite the very important realization: She had her bare hand against his bare back.

Not that it was an issue.

She was a professional after all.

It had to be done.

_Don't think about it._

She pressed on.

Makoto had just about reached the end of the pool when she heard it. Boots. Metal. She looked back. Out of the building were streaming heavily-armed soldiers.

Fukuizumi's men.

The man had shown himself to be wrathful. Using Syn-Orpheus could have killed him as well.

Not only that, the sound of helicopters in the distance, the ones she had told herself were for the evacuation, were getting louder.

Fukuizumi was likely after her, not Ren. If only there was time to stash Ren somewhere safe. She lowered her arms and coaxed his head with her shoulder so it fell on her chest, leaving none of it exposed to the army behind her. Maybe if she couldn't survive, he-

The sound of boots came to an abrupt stop. She turned her head. They were taking aim. She shut her eyes tightly.

_Please, miss._

She held Ren even closer to her as the mechanical clicking of firing preparations followed. Her footfalls seemed shaky with each step. Her heart beat wildly.

_Please, at least save-_

"Brigid!"

A wall of water rose out of the pool.

"I command thee!"

That same wall froze into solid ice.

Makoto looked left and right, finding Lala-san and Kirijo-san respectively. She bit her lip to hold back what might be a premature smile. They were saved.

_Wait._

_Lala-san?!_

"Nice improv," Lala-san smirked as she raised an eyebrow in Kirijo-san's direction.

"That won't hold them for long," Kirijo-san shook her head. Indeed the sound of muffled gunfire was followed by cracks forming in the ice. "Go! All of you! Akihiko is waiting at the shuffleboard courts!

Makoto wasn't sure what was going on but she knew she had to move.

"Anat!"

Her persona appeared, wasting no time folding herself back into a bike. Lala helped position Ren in front of her. She held him against her with one arm, the other on the handle. She would have to trust Anat to make it work. They had to go.

_Full Throttle._

They rounded the tennis courts and weaved through the picnic tables in the pavilions, tilting with each turn as the sounds of water echoing and ice shattering behind them.

Finally, they reached Sanada-san.  He stood waiting for them, one hand gripping the door frame of a helicopter.

_So that was that sound..._

Together, Makoto and Sanada-san strapped Ren into one of the seats. By the time they were done, Lala-san was catching up to them, Kirijo-san not far behind them. The pair was still creating ice walls to halt the Fukuizumi faction's assault as they ran.

By the time the two older women got in, Sanada-san was already lifting off.

The men pointed their rifles at the sky. Kirijo-san stood in the open door frame, gripping the walls, her long locks waving violently in the wind. Whether Artemisia was out there protecting them or Kirjio-san was just staring them down, Makoto didn't know.

It was only when they were out of range that Kirijo-san pulled herself from the door, shutting it behind her. She looked at the empty seat next to Sanada-san but turned away, sitting next to Lala-san instead.

"Just who are you?" Kirijo-san narrowed her eyes as she turned to the older woman.

"She's a friend," Makoto explained. She was curious as well but rather have the conversation under better pretenses and after she had spoken with Ren about it. She looked over at him. He was pitched forward slightly, the straps of the seatbelt keeping him from falling further. His face was slack. She slipped her hand into his, reassuring herself in its warmth.

Kirijo-san dipped her chin as she continued to stare at Lala-san. " _You're_  a Phantom Thief?" 

Lala-san snorted. "Who me? I'm just a concerned local business owner."

Kirijo-san turned to Makoto. "You planned this?"

"It was a coincidence." Makoto closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm sorry about the card."

Kirijo-san sighed, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she was staring out the window. It was almost as if she were gazing at the moon. "It couldn't be helped. At least it didn't fall into the wrong hands. That's the important part."

All the negative things she had thought about Kirijo-san... she had probably been too pessimistic. The woman had stared down a bevy of assault rifles for them. "Thank you. For saving us."

"We meant it when we said your lives were more important," Kirijo-san turned back to Makoto and smiled. "You should have given him the card. It wasn't worth it."

"He would have shot me anyway." Makoto shook her head again. "It was better to take the risk than have no chance at all."

"Yes. You're right. I wish it weren't the case." Kirijo-san frowned but then her lips curled upwards. "You planned well in the heat of the mission and you executed everything you attempted flawlessly. I can see why he picked you for this mission."

"But-"

"The mission went off-plan pretty badly," said Kirijo-san, her business-like expression having returned. "That wasn't your fault. If anyone's, it was mine."

"But-"

"Take the compliment," ordered Lala-san.

"Ah." Makoto stopped, staring at Lala-san for a moment before turning back to Kirijo-san. "Th-thank you, Kirijo-san."

"Mitsuru is fine."

Makoto's opened her eyes wide. She sat up straighter. "Thank you, Mitsuru. Um... you can call me Makoto."

"Makoto," Kirijo-san... no,  _Mitsuru_ , repeated, as if testing out the word. "Anyway, Makoto, I have to apologize. I was so eager to train you in what I know that I didn't stop to appreciate what you know. Maybe if I had, I could have used that knowledge to teach you better."

"Well..." Makoto had trouble meeting Kiri...  _Mitsuru_ 's eyes. "I should have handled things differently too. I should have been more forthright and trusted you. I really do appreciate all the effort you put into teaching me."

"Any time," Mitsuru smiled.

"So what about everyone back on the island?" asked Lala-san, leaning back and looking out the window.

"The local authorities will be handling the immediate damage and the evacuation of the civilians," said Mitsuru. "I've also alerted our government contacts regarding the shadows Amamiya discovered."

"Shadows Ren discovered?" asked Makoto. She once again turned to him. He was still asleep, breathing softly. Their linked hands were resting on his knee.

"It's a long story," said Lala-san. She raised her eyebrows as she looked the two of them up and down but didn't say more.

"Let's save the post-mortem until we've landed," Sanada-san called back from the cockpit. "We'll know more then.

"Where are we going?" asked Makoto.

"The Kirijo Group owns a hotel a few islands over," said Kirijo-san. "We can stay for the night until things calm down."

* * *

The first thing Ren saw when he woke up was Makoto leaning over him. She was looking at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. He couldn't say he minded her attention or concern, though he rather she not worry.

"Ren!" She looked so cute wrapped in his dress shirt, her hair all tussled. "Are you okay?"

"Hello Beautiful."

It sounded better in his head. Of course, in his head, his voice sounded like smooth velvet, not painfully hoarse.

"Um..." she bit her lip.

It was okay for him to say that now, right? After all, she hadn't rejected him.

_Wait._

Where were they?

What happened?

He heard a snort. Lala's voice followed. "He's okay."

Ren propped himself up on his elbows. He was laying on a couch in a very large, very fancy living room. The ceiling must have been like ten meters high. One end of the room was capped in a semicircular wall with floor-to-ceiling windows. Each pane was several meters in height.

Makoto was kneeling on the floor right next to him. Kirijo and Sanada were sitting on the couch across the coffee table, also looking at him. Lala was standing by a wet bar.

"What happened?" He continued to croak out his words. Lala walked over, placing a glass of water on the table before taking a seat at the far end of the couch.

"You stopped Syn-Orpheus," said Makoto.

Oh yeah. He had done that. Hadn't he?

"Then you fainted, " she continued.

Not his best moment.

"Mitsuru, Sanada-san, and Lala-san came to rescue us," Makoto explained further. "In a helicopter. This is the penthouse of one of Mitsuru's hotels."

_Mitsuru, eh?_

"And the guests?" Ren asked as he righted himself. He reached for the glass of water.

"Safely evacuated," said Kirijo. She was holding a coffee mug in her hands. "We just got word fifteen minutes ago."

Just how long had he been out?

"Fukuizumi and several of his employees have been apprehended," Sanada added. "Once you found all those caged shadows, we called in backup. There's a special department in the government for handling these kinds of things."

"But not stolen shadow tech?" Ren was sounding much more like himself after taking downing the glass of water.

"That was-" Kirijo started.

"A Kirijo Group matter. I know," said Ren. He took a deep breath, his next words coming more softly. "I don't know exactly what they were doing, but I realize you're probably not the only one developing persona-related weapons. Shido would have gotten there too."

"Yes, the motives of some are less than ideal," said Kirijo. She stared at him, her expression firm. "We develop this technology to protect people from shadows and to oppose the unscrupulous. We must understand what we're up against and be prepared. I can't prevent the action of others, only respond to it."

She bent forward to place her mug on the coffee table, staring at the table just a little too long. As she rose back to her normal posture, she glanced towards the windows. Finally she looked directly at Ren. Her voice softened. "The question is not the development, but how we steward its outcome."

"So far you've given me no reason to doubt your intentions." Ren leaned over, his elbows against his knees. He folded his hands, resting his chin on them. He still didn't like it, but he had yet to come up with an alternative. "But I'll be watching."

"Some oversight would not be a bad thing." Kirijo closed her eyes and smirked. After a brief pause, she stood up. "Well, now that we know you're okay and that the situation is under control at the resort, I think we're all overdue for some rest. Good night."

She walked across the living room, the skirt of her dress swishing as she passed Ren and Makoto. She opened a door, presumably to one of the bedrooms. With one hand on the door frame, she turned back to the others. "Akihiko... can I see you in here?"

Sanada closed his eyes and smiled. He leaned his head over, scratching it a few times before standing up. He looked at Ren, Makoto, and Lala as he straightened the bow tie of his tuxedo and grinned. "Good night. Sleep well."

Ren looked at Makoto. He supposed he had been wrong about the older pair.

"Well I better be getting to sleep too," Lala also stood up. "There are two more rooms. One of them is mine. Sort the other out for yourself."

Ren and Makoto watched as she practically sashayed to a door on the opposite side of the living room.

The two college students turned back to each other.

"I can take the couch," said Ren. He grinned as he patted one of the cushions. "We're already good friends."

"No you're still recovering-"

"It's way better than that mattress on crates at Leblanc."

"Absolutely not. You need to-"

"Makoto-"

An affected cough brought their attention back to Lala. She laughed as she disappeared into her room, calling back to them. "The other room has two beds you know."

Lala really loved to tease him. He sighed and stood up, offering a hand to Makoto. She took it and was soon on her feet as well.

"You know, it's a shame. After all that practice dancing, we never got to put on the final show." Ren took Makoto's other hand. The cuffs of his shirt, the one she was now wearing, fell over her hands, the tips grazing his. When had she slipped her arms into the sleeves? No matter. He searched for the right words, not finding them. Instead, he tilted his head towards the massive bow window, one eyebrow raised.

"But there's no music," Makoto breathed a nervous giggle, like she sometimes did when she was trying to be supportive.

"Then it should be easy." Ren smiled as he idly rocked their hands in and out.

"And we're hardly dressed for it now," Makoto looked down across the tatters of her dress and his shirt. Her eyes flicked to his bare torso but she quickly looked away.

_I see._

"I thought you'd prefer it without heels." Ren leaned in, flashing what he thought was his most charming grin. Her shoulders hopped up for just a moment. She was so cute when startled. It was nice, being able to do things like this without that worry he was doing something ethically wrong.

"True..." Makoto gazed upwards, indicating she was thinking about it. When she looked back at him, she was smiling. "Okay. Let's."

Ren found a light switch, dimming the room so the view from the windows took center stage. They moved a few pieces of furniture out of the way, carving out a dance floor for themselves.

They positioned themselves, facing each other in the middle of their makeshift dance floor, right by where the windows bowed out the most. He lifted his hands, one finding hers and the other landing on her back. His shirt seemed still a tad damp, but if having him press it against her was uncomfortable, she didn't show it. Instead, he caught her hesitate before letting her hand fall on his shoulder. He tried not to smile, to tease her, about the awkward skin contact that was usually reversed. Fortunately she seemed not to catch his amusement. 

With eye contact and a brief nod, he began to move, she along with him.

There was something soothingly pleasant about dancing alone in the dark with no music. There were no other people to worry about and nothing to distract him. He could just focus on his partner and let his thoughts run free. It was good to have her so near to him, to breathe in her scent, even if it she did smell like a pool. There was just something about being close.

She told him about her half of the mission and expanded on their escape. He had much to ask Lala when they were safely back home.

Lala and Kirijo had filled her in on his side. Well... Lala had spared some of the details.

He knew he shouldn't be bringing them up, not now, not when it was so late, not when he wasn't as his best. However, whatever restraint he had was also not at its best.

"Hey..." Ren began after a few silent beats. "Do you remember that time we broke up Eiko and that host she was dating?"

"How could I forget?" Again, there was that breathy nervous laugh of hers. "Though I suppose tonight makes that look like it was well-executed."

"Yeah..." Ren paused in his speech but continued in his dancing. He turned. She followed. They kept close to the windows. Some rational part of his brain was telling him to stop, to come up with an excuse. It was outvoted. "Remember how you said you'd fail a test at love and I said I'd be your study partner?"

"Uh... yeah..." Her lower lip dropped just a little. He could see the confusion in her eyes.

There was just one thing left to say.

Ren felt the adrenaline rushing through his chest. It was certainly the wrong time to confess and ask a girl out. They were both trapped at a hotel somewhere and way too tired to be doing anything weighty. However, he had spent far too long hesitating, holding back in an attempt to do things right.

So... why not now?

"What I meant was... I like you. Will you go out with me?"

"Oh," Makoto said as they continued to glide by the windows. A moment later, she stopped and lifted her hands from him, bringing them up to her mouth instead. She looked at him with big eyes. "OH."

Even in the dim lighting, the flush of her face was apparent. "Oh Ren I'm so sorry I didn't realize-"

"No," a grin tugged at the corner of Ren's mouth. He wasn't sure what reaction he had been hoping for. Not this one probably, but he was glad to have said it anyway. It felt refreshing to finally have it out there, even if nothing happened. He hoped he felt the same way in the morning. "I should have been more clear."

"Um..." Makoto let her hands drop. She held them in front of her chest, loosely balled.

Was she looking to him to say more? He fought the urge to apologize, to say more, to suggest she take some time to think about it. They had to adjourn to the same room after all. That was going to be awkward. He should have realized that beforehand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Um..." Makoto started again. Her chest rose and fell. "Is it too late to say yes? ...I mean, if you're not seeing anyone right now and not too busy with school starting and-"

Did he hear her correctly?

Whatever nerves he was feeling before were nothing compared to whatever chemicals were shooting through his systems now. She continued to rattle off excuses for him to reject her, but he was far too preoccupied to give them much attention. He wasn't looking for an excuse.

_Don't screw this up. Don't screw this up. Did she really mean it? Don't screw this up._

He gulped.

"...did you just say you'd go out with me?" Every word took great effort. Any one of them might send this whole thing the wrong way.

"I, um... asked if it was too late to answer yes..." She was worrying her thumbs against the sides of her index fingers.

She was just as nervous...

"No," Ren shook his head. Everything felt so warm and relaxed.  _Ah. This is nice._  "It's not too late."

"Ah. Th-thank goodness." She was looking down, like she was saying it to herself and not to him. How was it that her voice could get even cuter? She seemed to get even redder too. She looked up again. "Um... so what do we do now?"

Ren reached his hand out again. "Can I have another dance? Now that we're...  _dating_."

He tested out the word.

She didn't object.

"I'd like that."

This time he held her a little closer.

This time she leaned in a little more.

This time, neither could take their eyes off of each other's.

The smile she wore looked so content. The fact that it was only directed at him seemed unreal, like a fantasy he couldn't have ever imagined. She was so beautiful, so precious in his arms. One day he'd even like to-

A yawn.

He had managed to keep it silent and small. He didn't want her to think he wasn't enjoying her company, but...

"We should go to bed," said Makoto, her voice just above a whisper.

"But I don't want this to end." He continued to guide their dance, this time trying to will himself to perfectly remember the way she looked in his arms in the dim light.

"It's not," Makoto smiled more broadly. "It's just beginning."

Ren felt like something was blooming in his chest. He could only grin in response.

"But...," Makoto broke his gaze for the first time since they started dancing again. "I w-would like a goodnight kiss... if that's okay."

Ren was pretty sure his heart had accelerated to three hundred beats per minute.

"That sounds perfect," he choked out.

He brought a hand to cup her cheek, nudging her in the right direction. They both leaned in, hesitantly, stiltedly, enticingly slowly until their lips met. He closed his eyes. She was soft against him, so tender. It was like everything that was wonderful about her was reaching through him, filling his every crevice and being with her.

A beginning, huh?

They had a lot to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading. I hope you enjoyed this fic. 
> 
> I have mixed feelings.
> 
> I've put my thoughts on this fic, the weekly update schedule, and a listing of the Easter eggs in a comment thread on this chapter. Check it out if you're interested.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading.
> 
> \- Pix ([Other Fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieRed/works) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ShyPixieRed))
> 
> 2019/06/18 - Edited typos found by Strawberry Rat and [Zinzanzelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinzanzelf/pseuds/Zinzanzelf). Thank you!!


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